The Haladin
by Archaic Scribe
Summary: A story of the Haladin (Second House of the Edain), where their strange customs are explained and intertwined in the myth of Norse lore, when revered gods and goddesses ruled the lives of everyday folk bound to the land for survival and sustenance. Done.
1. I ILL NEWS

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe  
_

* * *

_Chapter I_

**ILL NEWS**_  
_

* * *

Location: A woodland in Thargelion located north of the Dwarf-road, which separates it from Ossiriand in the far east of Beleriand and set against the mountain range of the Ered Luin. 

It is the First Age of the Sun.

The chill of a menacing wind slapped Haldad ruthlessly, born from a stream generated from the Ered Luin mountain range and brought upon his household by way of the Dwarf-road. He winced as an involuntary shiver physically shook his body and the few sporadic braids in his long brown locks were caught up upon the hands of the strong breeze.

He slowly breathed in a mighty gust of air and held it a few moments before he released it with the trained perfection of a warrior born through a long bloodline of noble and fierce protectors to the Old Faith their people practiced and held to in all of life's ever-changing moments.

Haldad yearned for the council of his departed wife, or better put, he thought, the physical presence of her hand in his or her serene and calm face in any such flight of chaos or battle.

He could not help but allow a pleasant smile to cross his face for a moment as his thoughts drifted to recalling her resigned aura as she birthed and raised their twin children, Haldar and Haleth, giving up battle and something so dear to her that it almost pained him to think of the consequences of such a choice. But alas, it was her choice to make and out of respect and wisdom, he would not allow his own doubts or concerns to stand in the way even if he may be among those who would not have stretched their imagination to believe that a woman of her strength and courage would content herself in raising children.

Haldad shook the memory away, turned his large horse from field to house, and set her into a canter across fields of wildflowers, crushing them as the horse raced toward their group of homesteads.

As he slowed his horse to a trot, Haleth saw him from the corner of her eye as she sidestepped her brother's sword, lunging toward her with anxious force. Haldar followed her pointed gaze and turned in the direction of Haldad's approach, a quizzical look crossing his face, as they wondered why their father returned from his trip so early.

The twins walked slowly towards him, with an unknown fear of what news he may bring as they both set identical expressions of impassiveness across their faces. Again, in rare form, Haldad smiled affectionately at his two children, all that remained of his family on Midgard, Middle-earth.

"What grim faces set upon such lovely countenances, my children," he said lightly, in spite of the information he held.

Both twins raised their eyebrows at his teasing, Haldar crossing his arms and Haleth placing her hands on her hips, both waiting expectantly for Haldad to continue.

Haldad eyed them with a level gaze and set upon them a direct look of intensity that had them remaining frozen in place, as if they had become blocks of ice.

"A foul intruder makes its way to our homes," he started out frankly. "It comes in the form of a large raiding party of Orcs, from the pits of darkness and crossing the mountains to the east."

The twins nodded their understanding as Haldar spoke. "We must fortify our lands and meet them prepared then."

Haldad nodded and replied matter-of-factly, "We must ride quickly and muster our peoples so that we may stand allied against this black tide from the Dark Master!"

"I will send messengers to the other households," Haleth said calmly, and with a bow, departed quickly, making her way towards the stable and her horse.

"We must make haste and not linger overlong, for ours is the second front they will attack. The first has already been taken unaware, burned and pillaged without a hope of help from us and all those who once dwelled there will remain corpses until they have been avenged," Haldad added with an inference of remorse.

Haldar bowed with a heavy sorrow in his heart and strode to the barn where Haleth had gone to a few moments pervious.

He saw her standing next to her horse with her back to him, going about the business at hand with not a wasted movement. He knew his twin well and what her purpose was in preparing to first ride to the encampment of her beloved.

"There is yet more news of the orc raid, Haleth," Haldar said quietly, pausing pointedly after using her given name, a deliberate attempt at softening the news he bore.

The prolonged stillness in the room and abrupt taint of foreboding energy made Haleth grow uncomfortable as the hairs on her body began to stand upright in warning, but she intentionally disregarded her intuition and instead replied impatiently as she verbally acknowledged the anxiousness emanating from Haldar, "Aye, my brother! Have done with it! What news have you, then - and be quick - we must ride with a fleeting gait and initiate the sequence of messengers in all haste: This you know as well as I."

Haldar swallowed with great difficulty, sensing her trepidation and irritation as she needlessly reiterated what they both knew must be done, but instead he spoke, his voice not betraying the shaking emotion of turmoil in his heart. "The Household of Bryeth is destroyed."

Haleth paused for an instant, her mind racing and her heart suddenly pounding unnaturally, at a pace too fast for her reckoning, as she absentmindedly started stroking her horse's neck.

"Destroyed?" she questioned in an unsteady, low voice as her heart began to sink and then whispered, "Certainly, you must have misunderstood the message."

Haldar shook his head, dismissing her an excuse for denial and spoke softly, "No, they are utterly destroyed," her brother replied gravely.

Haleth closed her eyes against the sudden pain that raked her body, an internal wind emptied her heart in a single expelling gust. She did not turn to her brother, but quickly mounted her horse and charged heedlessly out of the barn in a swirl of emotion as her father sat upon his horse on a small hill, squinting into the sunlight as his daughter rode swiftly across the empty valley.

Haldar swung himself nimbly onto his mount and rode up beside his father, the crackling sound of brittle grass crunching softly under the horse's hooves as he approached the elder man still sitting in silence. Haldad turned to his son and raised his hands in an ancient blessing as Haldar nodded, thrusting his heels into the horse's flanks and spurring it towards Haleth's wake.

The hooves of Haldar's bay horse thundered, pounding atop the well-traveled forest path as he relentlessly chased his sister, wispy tree branches turning angry at the disturbance and so changing to wicked limbs, whipping at him ruthlessly from above the road. He could sense her pace slowing and knew it would not be long before her emotions turned and began eating away at themselves, slowing her unexpected flight as she would begin to reflect on all that consumed her at this unexpected news.

Haleth had stopped ahead of him and spoke when he was close enough to hear her, "So, we do not only have to battle Orcs, but suffer the misery the Dark Lord's will has brought down upon our folk once again because of the fair kings who war with him? Are they not even more intolerable than suffering the unwelcome of these fair folk, garbed in green, who our ancestors first encountered when making the great journey to this land? Perhaps I have never laid eyes on one of these high kings of the fair people, but I like them no less for it."

"It is as the gods will it to be, my sister, forget it not and mark what you speak aloud among these ancient trees," Haldad warned in a barely audible murmur.

"Then it is also for us to seek vengeance for our slain folk and bring the strength of Odin to smote him and his minions," she replied with rising, venomous anger.

"Peace, my sister, Haleth," Haldar said, raising his hands in surrender. "It is not I who disagree with you."

Haleth gathered her thoughts to her conscious mind and nodded to her brother, "I meant no harm to you or the gods, brother, but may you, and the gods for that matter, mark what I say now in clear voice: I will live to see these orc-raiders fall and I will cleave them as I have seen animals slaughtered for great feasts!"

Haldar nodded with favorable agreement and spoke earnestly, "We must ride swiftly, with all haste then, and rally those we may as godi wills it!"

_Aye_, Haleth thought, _and it is you, my brother, who have a family of your own to fight for and protect and it is I who will now never know anything as close as all that_.

* * *

In Norse mythology, a godi is the name for a leader who is the head of a kindred group of families. The twins refer to their father, Haldad, who is the godi, or the head of their clan.

* * *

Author's Note:  
This story is inspired primarily by the role Norse mythology has in Tolkien's works, especially that of the Silmarillion. I have taken the liberty to use this as a basis for the references in "Unfinished Tales" where we learn a bit more about the Folk of Haleth where they are said to have strange customs and languages to which they adhere. They were not only regarded as such by the Eldar, but by their own race as well, the other Edain. 

I believe it will be entertaining to explore these traits along with the other strange things alluded to in the Silm and UT as the story progresses.

* * *

  
Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	2. II FRIEND OR FOE

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

* * *

_Chapter II _  
** FRIEND OR FOE**  


* * *

The rhythmic sound of hooves walking upon the firm dirt path nearly lulled Haldad into a well-earned slumber as he began to sway slightly sideways on the back of his horse when twilight began that day. With a quick shake of his head he straightened his back and surveyed the encompassing trees carefully, even though the twittering song of nearby birds continued to float to his ears upon a soft, comforting breeze. 

Haldad smiled and indulged his memory of romantic interludes stolen in a woodland much like this in the days of his youth, when there was naught to bother with except for the heady lust and passions of flesh. Even as time progressed and their kin began to follow different practices, the people who were the ancient tribe of Haldad created ceremonies of reverence to the god and goddess of fertility to bless the earth upon which their survival depended. It was only when Haldad grew older, did he fully understand such tribute to higher powers.

Many of their kin departed, becoming more conservative and indulging less pleasurable practices than their own. Though different, they remained kin and that meant that in times of crisis, the differences would fade into a petty irritation in comparison against a common enemy, who was even now, bearing down on them with great speed.

The wind grew stronger as Haldad ran his hand tenderly down his horse's neck, stroking her with a loving palm before his fingers entwined themselves in her mane. He urged her forward as he applied the pressure of his legs to her belly, bringing them swiftly along the trail. In this old ritual between man and beast, Haldad moved his upper body forward to match his mare as he wrapped his arms closely around her long neck and simultaneously gave her a small kick on either side of her stomach.

His eyes began to water as the wind forced itself against him and they raced through the dense forest gathered at either side of the trail, dodging branches that stretched themselves into the pathway.

A rough and weary looking Haldad emerged with a mighty burst from the shadow of the forest into the quiet calm energy emitted from the meadow. He sighed with relief and then grabbed his flask of water, rewarding a parched and dry mouth with what seemed the elixir of life and gave a shrill whistle, waiting for a response as he mentally inhaled the serene feeling of the early evening.

After a few moments, two whistles answered his call and he proceeded across the open clearing, which shown lengthy dark shadows from surrounding trees set against a pale moon, lighting the way to the encampment of his kin. It was not long after Haldad arrived and made his request known before messengers were sent to rally the rest of the clans who would stand with them to fight the Orcs.

Meanwhile, the twins rode hard and fast, sending the same greeting and receiving the same permission to enter the grounds of the camp they were about to penetrate through a tangle of twisted limbs. Amongst these limbs, was a tangled nest of bracken set around the perimeter to protect a sizable number of people who were also their kin.

While Haldad received the welcome befitting one of his longevity and rank, the twins were received with much less warmth and respect, lending a new level of meaning to cordial acts between guest and host.

After a long and rigorous journey made in silence, the twins dismounted their horses and were lead into the Household of Tunni. Tunni was the chieftain of the clan who dwelled in the deeps of the forest and whom they needed to win the support of for this cause for defense in union against a common enemy.

Haldar grimaced as he turned from Tunni and looked at Haleth, whose sharp gaze could have frozen water at the height of summer's heat. There stiff welcome was enough to contend with, Haldar reckoned, as he willed his twin to meet his gaze.

With Haleth returning Tunni's open regard of hostility, things would not go any the easier when it came time for them to plead their case of unity against the bloodthirsty Orcs that marched speedily upon their lands.

Haldar could wait no longer as he made an unhesitant attempt to gain attention and work the focus away from the tense, unsettling feeling radiating through the air.

"We bring grevious news, my lord, Tunni," Haldar said with a firm, clear voice that showed little hint of the acute pain and the piercing sadness he felt in his heart, as he stepped forward obstructing Tunni from Haleth's unwavering and penetrating stare. "A band of orcs has killed all those who dwell in Bryeth and march west along the Dwarf-road."

At the mention of Bryeth, Haleth felt herself flinch as she broke eye contact with Tunni and closed her eyes for a quick moment against the reality of the statement. As she fought back the fresh surge of pain that had begun to make a deep void in her being, she thought of Bryeth, considered young by some of the people to be the head of his clan, forever lost in bodily form. In an instant faster than the flash of lightening against a black sky, the concept passed and was replaced by something empty, numb and foreign.

Tunni nodded solemnly as an unnoticeable twinkle of savage mirth began lighting his eyes.

"That is grevious indeed," he said with a deep, rich voice that was meant to caress the listeners senses, and make the pit of their stomach restless and their skin savor the touch of smooth, cool silk.

Haleth felt herself smirk at Tunni's forced attempt at heartfelt sympathy as her brother continued his dialogue with the lord of the lands they entered.

"Come, now, my dear cousin. You are weary from travel and my home is open to you," he spoke smoothly with false hospitality as he stood straighter, pulling himself to his full, towering height as he addressed Haldar with an ugly grin, "Unless you would rather stay in the stables with the wild things," he added, moving his head to peer directly at Haleth.

Haldar let loose an uncomfortable, strained laugh as Tunni's great, outstretched arm motioned him forward behind a disgruntled guard who lead them with long strides towards his chambers.

"You would bewitch those who know you less, Tunni," Haleth murmured distinctly, the tone of her voice taking on a sharp edge as she listened to the footsteps of her brother fade into silence down a long hallway.

"And I feared you would never bestow any such as even one compliment upon me for the rest of my time on Middle-earth," Tunni replied quickly as he turned and fixed her with a severe, leering stare.

"Have you no respect for a daughter of Haldad!" Haleth whispered vehemently as her pale eyes narrowed and then darted around the vast, open expanse of room, assessing the exact position of Tunni's wardens who stood nearby, lending a menacing presence to their lord's undertone of intimidating words.

"You have naught to fear while your brother resides in my keep, my dear lady Haleth," he sneered. "I know well his strength and ability in battle, when we have the honor of participating in such, but you have not his abilities, do you? Being women, you must practice the rites that are supposed and expected of you, do not not?'" he stated as all shroud of manners withdrew from his mask of being a courtly host. "Let this be blazed permanent upon your idle thought, my darling cousin, if left alone with you for much longer," he replied harshly, letting the threat ominously trail off, leaving Haleth's imagination to suffer free reign in thought.

"Do you forget what happened the last time we were together before the untimely interruption from that simpleton of a man from Bryeth," Tunni said with a broad smile.

"We can most assuredly speak more of this when we sup later, if you wish," he added as Haleth stood, fuming under her skin in anger and fear, making futile attempts to calm.

"You dare!" Haleth finally spat in anger as her body began to shake and her mind swirled in a red cloud of restrained tumult.

After a lengthy time, her temper sizzled, near exploding, as her voice became deadly calm. "Do you not recall, then, Lord Tunni, that the women of my tribe have the capability to curse you, and that manhood you find so utterly important, when attempting to conquer those unwilling to submit to your foolish whim."

"Whim?" Tunni replied, suddenly exploding with near unbridled rage, as he raised his large hand to clutch her arm before he hesitated a mere inch above her elbow. "You were never merely a whim, Haleth."

Haleth gasped quietly and looked down at his trembling fist, knowing that he could break any bone in her body in an instant, if he wished. Even with such a confession, she sensed a foreboding danger as the hairs on her body stood at attention and a feeling of uneasiness took root in her mind.

Knowing the powerful threat he presented to her and the uncomfortable feeling and inward anger he now felt for confessing a thought so intimate, Tunni ended the conversation and beckoned his guard.

"Show the Lady Haleth to her bedchamber," Tunni ordered roughly.

Haleth took a few resounding steps away from him as she followed the guard before turning to glare into Tunni's eyes. Then, retracing her steps so that she could lean forward, she brushed her lips against his ear, disregarding the clear picture of the dangerous game she was about to begin, "You know nothing of my wrath."

Tunni shivered where he stood, following her with menacing dark blue eyes, as he fruitlessly cursed Haleth under his breath, listening to the sounds of her traveling cloak swish against the stone floor. Soon, her footsteps faded as she continued along into the dim corridor where torchlight cast errie shadows on the walls leading away from his Great Hall.

After Haleth reached the room she resolutely slammed the heavy doors to the best of her ability and looked for a way to bolt it, but there was no rod to be found. She cringed at the unfathomable prospect of an unbarred door in this home and stood leaning against the worn wood, her palm against the splinters that jutted out from it's faded grooves.

She felt naked, vulnerable, and was loosing control of her better judgement in the wake of news that destroyed her whole life and she had just started a lethal game with a deadly foe. But was that any reason to make the task of convincing their most fickle ally to join their ranks and fight the Orcs more challenging than it already was, given their history? Haleth realized she was being selfish in her vendetta against Tunni and regretted their power play moments ago, but there was little hope for what she had just done when nettling him into a volatile confrontation.

If she allowed her emotion to rule her, there would be little hope of attaining the goal of the mission they intended to successfully complete, she thought, as she made her way over to the wash basin on a nearby table.

About an hour later after Haldar and Haleth had refreshed themselves, they were received in Tunni's Great Hall were flames leapt high from a roaring fire nestled in a stone hearth. The warm, welcoming feel of the fire was ironic compared to the aloof sentiment that emitted from Tunni himself when his guests of honor were seated by his side as a small feast was served on grimy plates.

Tunni tore into his meat with savage pleasure, juices flowing and dribbling onto his fine garments, but he paid it no heed and spared no one a glance as he continued to eat, the master of his own hall.

Haleth hid her disapproving look of disgust at his gorging and shot a smoldering look of disdain at her brother, Haldar, who sat and ignored it all together.

"Keep your tongue, my sister," Haldar warned under his breath as he looked at her pleadingly, "We desperately need his arms, and quickly, for the times ahead."

Haleth pursed her lips firmly together, primly folded her hands before her, and laid them to rest upon the long oak table and said, "I deserved that. Let it be as you wish."

In all truth she was thankful for the reminder because it reinforced the harsh lecture she had given to herself on the way to the feast hall.

Haldar sat feigning complacency as he caught the look of reprove his sister attempted to hide beneath lowered eyelashes and began to dig into his food with gusto. He knew well, there was no love lost between his sister and Tunni, but by the gods, she must hold her temper in check or they would stand no chance. They had but few warriors amongst their ranks and it was a widely known fact that Tunni's men, though vicious and crude like their master, were breed specifically for battle.

What would their ancient practices of veneration in honor to Freya mean if there were no crops left to plant and harvest because they had all needlessly perished? No, Haldar thought, he knew Haleth as he knew himself through the bond of a twin. She would loathe to let a personal matter be the downfall of the greater good of all their people, whether her feelings of vengeance were just or not and she would put it aside, as he would, in order to bring the clans together.

Haldar watched with pale grey eyes as Haleth finished the food on her plate, pushed it away from her on the table, and then raised her tankard of mead. Haldar grinned to himself, knowing well that she would rather be damned to life with giants then let a good decanter of drink go to waste, especially after such a rough journey and chilly reception.

Haldar raised his glass low and nodded to his sister as brown hair fell back, leaving his pale face exposed. After he finished his meal, he looked towards Tunni, who was beckoning the serving maids for more food.

Haldar reluctantly turned from him, and though anxious to get the night's discussion over, he gazed longingly into the fire set near them, letting his thoughts drift to the sincere warmth that would surely be filling the room of his own home.

Haldar pictured his petite wife, a broad smile upon her face and a seductive twinkle in her eyes alluding to a promise to be fulfilled in the ardent hours of night as she glanced up to wink at him. He could see her as she bustled around their kitchen, serving a meal of whatever the crops had provided that season and whatever meat could be attained to their adolescent son, who was growing fast. Soon, young Haldan would be nearing an age where Haldar could begin taking him on errands such as this.

With a regretful groan, inaudible to anyone but himself, Haldar pulled his thoughts away from his own pleasant memories and turned back to see if Tunni was done eating yet.

Tunni had just turned to address Haldar with his piercing, dark cobalt eyes, throwing a linen cloth down which he had just used to wipe the remaining mess from his face.

When clean, Lord Tunni presented a classic picture of refined features with the exception of a scar that ran from the side of his forehead to his chin. This white, curved line was the result of a wound given to him when he had been caught unawares, for the first and last time, during an especially heated clash with the Dark Lord's forces. Tall and broad, Tunni looked down his nose at most of those surrounding him and used his lofty height to his full advantage whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He was a representation of handsome manliness, with power and vigor that seemed to flow from his very pores by some invisible and bewitching spell. Lord Tunni was desirable to many an inexperienced maiden, but when they grew too close, it was too late for his outward beauty was completely different from the blackness of his mismatched soul.

"What have you to trade for my aid?" Tunni said, raising his voice for Haleth to hear.

"Trade?" Haldar said with astonishment, reminding himself to keep his own composure, as he looked incredulously from Haleth back to Tunni with an explosive bark. "We are kin, Lord Tunni, and standing together against the enemy who would ruin the lot of us should be enough."

"Should it?" Tunni replied, calculating his next words and looking directly into Haldar's eyes. "You certainly must agree, we are long estranged, your kin and mine," Tunni added thoughtfully.

"What say you if I proposed a union to join our two houses and repair the sundering of our families?" Tunni said with a smile, as one eyebrow arched upward in question.

Haldar sensed Haleth moving uncomfortably on his other side, but was stunned to silence and let a few prolonged moments lapse before responding.

"My sister is not for trade and even if she was, dear cousin, it is not for me to say," Haldar declared, sarcasm entering uninvited into his tone.

"Well then, it seems we have," Tunni paused dramatically and smiled from ear to ear, "No agreement," he finished as he motioned for the table to be cleared before them.

* * *

  
Author's Note: 

I should add, when referencing the ages of the characters of Haldad, Haldar, Haleth and Haldan, that I am simply guessing since I have not come across any clear facts to reference regarding this information in The Silmarillion. If it is in there, I have not read between the lines enough to unravel the mystery, perhaps. As it goes, I am staying with this slight alteration, even if it does, by chance, deviate from canon.

* * *

Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.

Page 14


	3. III TRAINING GROUND OF THE PRIESTESS

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe  
_

* * *

_Chapter III_  
**TRAINING GROUND OF THE PREISTESS**  


* * *

**  
**

"It is not my permission you must gain, Lord Tunni," Haldar said more calmly, regaining his negotiation skills.

"We ride early on the marrow for Mulco, where Haldad gathers allies," Haleth added in a clear, strong voice brimming with surpressed anger.

Tunni turned to Haleth, looking past Haldar, an unwavering fire ignited and blasted from the blue-hot color of his eyes, which seemed to make a scorching line directly to her through the still air. He mistakenly gave her his attention and then thoroughly berated himself because he had not intended to acknowledge her directly in any manner.

Lord Tunni meant to break her of the very thing that attracted him most to her and it was her concept of her own self-importance and her willful nature that must cease to exist. It was his own opinion, that no matter what women were allowed to speak or do in other clans, they were not designed to speak without restraint in the presence of noblemen.

A man of vast physical magnitude and trivial heart, he was certainly not one given to the temptations of tender reflection of any kind, and so Tunni determined not to press his petition.

As servants finished clearing the littered table, Tunni turned back to Haldar, with a mended gaze that did not match his next words.

"We will prepare to ride with you, then," he growled as he called for more wine.

Haldar nodded reluctantly to Lord Tunni, fearing such close proximity on the road tomorrow with their new traveling companions, as Haleth continued to seethe nearby on his other side.

Soon, the pipes were taken up by a court musician and a spirited tune vibrated throughout the hall. In spite of the situation, the ancient music entertained the Lord's guests and created a mood of genuine enjoyment as the important talks ended and gave way to those of a less substantial nature.

Haleth leaned forward with a fluid and slight movement towards Haldar and whispered above a song that had turned to a slow, haunting melody, "I will ride with you, and this hoodlum party, until the highway to Canute's Homestead and send messengers to the outlying lands. I trust not any message that should be sent from this folk."

Haldar considered, and then nodded his ascent because in theory, it should be heeded in the foremost interest for Haleth not to be too near to Lord Tunni at this time. Neither twin had any interest in such a personal agenda as that which was to defend their lands against the invading Orcs.

_It is fortunate_, Haldar thought with renewed calmness as a grin crossed his face, _that Lord Tunni's desire for combat should make him so narrowly predictable_.

The fire began to wane as the once red embers were just beginning to turn to gray when Haldar made their bids of a good night to the inhospitable lord of the household.

A bright, cool morning dawned upon a faded horizon as the sun rose with a mystical glow over the distant Ered Luin and the party mounted their horses after breaking their fast, only moments ago. Dew began to drip slowly from the tips of leaves and sparkled in the pastures as they rode at a fast, continuous pace on the road to Mulco.

After an exhausting day's journey with little reprieve, they finally reached the Canute Highway near nightfall, where they set up a temporary camp.

Haleth had been deliberately tactful in avoiding Tunni, who had set a permanent scowl upon his flawed appearance. At every infrequent opportunity, he took advantage of glowering at Haleth to show her his displeasure and the hint of malice beneath the surface of forced diplomacy.

Resolving to ignore his bait, Haleth continued to avoid his gaze and any proximity near him, as an uncomfortable fear began to creep into her forethought.

Without the need to prepare any extravagant meals, the party devoured the bread, cheese and smoked jerky they had brought and wet their palates with a common wine made in the lands of Tunni.

A treat of imported wine from their homeland of Haldad was sorely longed for by the twins, who were accustomed to such a sacred offering on a daily basis. The renowned wine from the Land of Haldad was special to any other than those who dwelled there, where partaking in the revered beverage was customary.

The malt beverage of Tunni was as longed for by the twins, who secretly wished that their host had chosen that beverage, as it was uncustomary for them to drink much of it in their own land.

Haleth's plan was to retire for sleep and rise early, bidding farewell to her brother, and continuing on alone to Canute. A grand scheme, to be sure, which was almost completed flawlessly to her satisfaction until Tunni's guard had alerted him to her departure early the following morning.

Just as Haleth began to walk towards Haldar with the intention of bidding him a warm farewell, Tunni strode towards her and catching her eye, she froze where she stood so as not to look as if she feared an altercation with him.

"Your mount is saddled and you prepare to leave so early," Tunni drawled casually, moving his eyes towards her horse. "You do not plan to continue with our party to Mulco."

"You miss little," she replied with sarcastic irritation, making a powerful mental effort to prevent her rising anger.

"You go without an escort, my lady?" Lord Tunni questioned with skillful finesse as his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

Haleth's gray eyes seemed to light up and she could do little to halt the sneer that spread across her face as she let a guttural laugh, sadistically amused at his effort to remain polite, however superficial it remained­.

"My ways are not your ways," she said giving him a contemptuous and exaggerated bow as she made to step around him.

Before she could place the next foot on the ground, he firmly grabbed her by the arm, with deftness only years of training could provide for anticipating an opponent's forthcoming movement.

"You may be priestess-born and a daughter of Godi Haldad, but you are no warrior worth contention in my sight, fair lady." Lord Tunni hissed through clenched teeth.

"You will unhand me," Haleth said, controlling the sudden spasm of fear that coiled in her belly. "_Now_," she said vehemently.

"Do not presume that you may trifle with me, my lady, Haleth," Tunni warned, leering at her as he dramatically let loose her arm and walked away.

Haleth continued onward, resisting an urge to taunt him that she was, indeed, not _his lady in any way_. Instead, she focused all her hope into presenting an erect back and purposeful stride to give the appearance of calm, as she raised her chin and deeply inhaled a desperate breath of fresh pine-scented air.

It had been relatively easy to embrace the anger that had imitated from the memories that originated from the past when she first saw Tunni again, but with his touch brought a painful remembrance that could not so quickly be dismissed by her conscience thought.

Haleth stood over the body of her brother and gave his ribs a soft kick, which she immediately regretted as his arm instantly flew up, sword in hand by a quick movement her eyes barely had time to register.

Haldar smiled at his sister with relief, but his smile quickly faded to a look of anxiety when he stood and faced her as their two lean figures stood nose-to-nose. Spoken words proved needless between the twins as Haleth responded with a shrug of her shoulders to his silent query indicated by raised eyebrows.

"I bid you farewell, my brother," Haleth said, attempting a smile, which turned out to have the appearance of melancholy.

"I can ride with you, if you wish," Haldar said with concern.

"No. I would not have you waste one moment of time on my account. Go, please, with my blessing," she said as she raised her hands as their father, Haldad, had done when they departed before his race to catch-up with Haleth after the news of the Orc-raid first came to them at their homestead.

Haldar bowed his head, accepted her blessing, and held both of her upperarms and they leaned their foreheads against each other in a farewell salute, which was customary in their family.

"You know well how many left Tunni's stronghold, Haldar. Be sure there is the same number who continue onward, for there is one among them that knows the hidden ways," she whispered softly, for his ears alone.

Haldar gave her a quizzical look, brown eyebrows meeting in the center of his forehead and surveyed the area as she moved quickly to get up on her horse and leave.

The road to Canute was established and swift, if one knew the way, as Haleth did due to many previous years of travel to the groves of the novice priestesses. The hidden ways to those unknowing souls who sought it would always be in vain because of the veiled and age-old teachings passed down orally, from the royal line of seers and prophets.

The azure color of the Ered Luin mountain range grew closer as it cast a dynamic shadow on the fertile and lush green land that ebbed contently below it. Haleth drove her mare at breakneck speed, anxiously closing the distance in half a day's travel in a tangle of windswept hair and dry eyes which thirsted for moisture.

She brought her horse to a trot upon entering the village, seeing the familiar group of thatched roofs atop stone huts where the People of Canute dwelled. Haleth smiled affably, clearing all thought of apprehension and evil from reason as her spirit rejoiced in the confines of her physical being. Even in the face of such happiness, the message of her mission impressed upon her the importance of business and she did not allow her soul to soar freely into the safe spaces of the familiar air of her training grounds.

It was with a mixture of regret and exhilaration that she greeted Canute, whom she had so often honored in long ago days of veneration and esteem. Canute's familiar, aged hands were held out to her in blessing as she bowed her head, his mere presence giving her the feel of being truly refreshed. This place, under the protection of Canute and the ancient rites of her practice, would allow her the reprieve to heal what was left of a wound that had been branded upon her soul. Her open mind and heart could soar with strength and guidance once again, rather than the weakness it would surely be outside this enchanted realm.

She pushed her own private thoughts away and looked closely at Canute, her ashen eyes beginning to mist as she willed herself to speak.

"I request messengers to be sent in all haste, my Lord Canute, to gather what leaders you may for urgent council."

Canute nodded agreement without any question and spoke quietly, a kind smile upon his features, "Before we speak anymore of your intent, you must bath and replenish your body with sustenance."

Haleth could not help the wild, forced-sounding laugh that exploded from her, relief overtaking her senses, as she let the tears of confusion, anger and sadness flow down her pale cheeks.

"Come," Canute said mildly, pulling her to rest against his broad chest, "My daughter."

With that, all pretenses of mentor and apprentice disappeared, showing the genuine relationship of foster-father and child as Canute broke the embrace, a protective arm remaining around her shoulder, as he lead her to his expansive wooden home.

"Be at peace," he said, applying light pressure to her head with his finger and tracing an ancient symbol upon her brow, his eyes penetrating into her soul and mind as she bowed her head.

Soon, servants were scrambling to attend her and show her to the quarters where they would assist her in bathing and dressing afterwards.

The smooth, warm flow of water upon her face cleansed her thoughts, if only for the short time she remained in Canute's land.

Soon, a meal of cheese, roasted meats and wine was served to her and Canute outdoors near his home, where it was customary to receive honored family and friends of the People of Canute.

They sat on the earth, under a brilliant indigo sky where the mountains of the Ered Luin seemed less oppressive to Haleth than when she first viewed them upon her arrival. Amiable rays of sunshine warmed any skin left exposed, managing her previous confuddled thoughts into an aura of benevolent humor. The two sat peacefully in congenial serenity upon a soft, grass floor, tasting the delightful and filling food of Lord Canute's kitchens.

After both had their fill of food and the remaining leftovers cleared by his novices, Canute spoke, "Now, what is your purpose in coming, child?"

Haleth breathed evenly, a quick smile crossing her face before she composed her thoughts as she wondered when she might ever shake the feeling of being a student priestess every time she was in his presence.

"I would have you and whatsoever of your people you can spare as representatives to ride with me to Mulco for a meeting of great importance," she said, managing a calm tone, starting her request by reiterating what she had sputtered when she first arrived.

Canute was silent for a few long moments, considering her request as he rested his hands upon his legs, the stillness of a wilderness animal issuing from his being.

Haleth continued, "It is regarding an Orc-raid that has ravished the House of Bryeth and continues onward to bring ruin to all our people."

With this comment said, Haleth bowed respectfully to Canute and awaited his response with nervous anticipation.

"You of all must know what you ask," Canute acknowledged briskly. "What does Godi Haldad intend by this?"

Haleth raised her eyes to meet his, "I do not know what my father fully intends, but I suspect it is to rally our people into a capable defense."

Canute nodded reluctantly, his face impassive of all emotion, his eyes clouded from revealing any thought that might be stirring behind his eyes, "I will send my entourage."

"Will you not come then?" Haleth burst eagerly with unshielded concern. "Lord Tunni rides now with Haldar for Mulco."

Canute considered this with much care, his eyebrows moving slightly in a line, sensing more than was known to Haleth, or anyone's consideration.

"I will come," he said soberly, "but I do not command the nomadic tribes that your message has been sent to this day, nor would I force them to attend, even out of respect for me."

Haleth nodded in understanding and sighed with relief as Canute's eyes narrowed into the horizon as he turned into the direction where miles off, the leaguer of the north was held under the command of the Eldar.

Haleth's regret at having to ask the gentle spirits of Canute's clan to even issue forth from the safety of their peaceful kingdom was apparent in her expression.

"Do not over-worry yourself at this time, my dear," Canute said, turning to her, his face suddenly transformed into a manner of heartfelt compassion.

Haleth attempted a reassuring smile to her mentor of long ago before taking her leave of him, walking briskly across the fertile field and through a small woods.

The branches stood high above with smooth green leaves on the downward slide of their peak of the summer season, stretching out like lanky arms over her head as she made her way along a well-beaten path to a field of ritual and reflection.

Soon, autumn would be upon them and after the People of Canute gathered the full yield, the harvest ritual would be repeated, as it had for many years, to the great powers that safeguarded the fertility of man and beast.

Haleth stood under a canopy of entangled grapevines that was the entrance to the pasture, her dark hair unbraided and flowing with luxury down her back. In the field before her, the stone pillar of a well stood tall, surpassing her six-foot frame as she observed it with meditative wonder, the tassels of its rope fondled by a gentle breeze.

There was little help for her feelings of peace as she thought back to a time when she was younger with a more carefree heart, shielded from the happenings of the outside world beyond Canute and it was time to offer the gifts of the harvest in ceremony to Frey.

It was long past time, Haleth knew, for her to heed her inner voice, and accept her first desperate longing of pain she felt for Bryeth after the recent news of his brutal death. To share the ancient rituals with Bryeth for the rest of her living days would have been her own idea of perfection on Middle-earth.

It was not often that an intended marriage could be attained for the sake of love and honor, and though an allegiance with the House of Bryeth pleased her father, Haldad, it was not intended for that purpose. A union between Haleth and Bryeth was rather an added bonus to the happiness he saw in his daughter's eyes at the mention of Bryeth or his brave deeds.

It was a comforting sympathy to know he was in Valhalla and had died with noteworthy glory in the fray of Orcs, defending his tribe to their death. In the ways of the Old Faith, Haleth knew she could count on her father's respect of the passage of a warrior's life to the halls of his kin. Haldad would have built the pyre high, its fingers of flame touching the heavens.

"It is time," she breathlessly whispered aloud.

At a leisurely pace, Haleth removed her garments, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of the pasture as she turned and walked upon the soft dirt, welcoming the invasion of dry, upturned earth between her freshly cleaned toes. After bypassing any fully naked washing when she arrived in Tunni's realm, she was glad to have the opportunity to journey to Canute.

Haleth was completely open to the spirit of nature as the wind hit her skin, giving her a slight chill even with the full onslaught of the sun's heat. She stopped near the center of the field where a circular form of rock stood and filled a wooden bowl with water from the well before resting her arms at her sides after tracing the symbol of reflection near the bridge of her nose.

The pool of water in the saucer was still against the movement of air that upswept her hair in a wild, unscripted dance as she eyed the sage that was resting on the brim of the stones. Breathing deeply, Haleth cleared her mental palate as she freed her mind to roam into the past, seeking a memory that was not her own.

The sage would remain untouched and the ritual chant unspoken, until she could call with faithful pureness upon the grace of Urth and the Sight to view the death of her lover at the hands of the Orcs. Before Haleth could perform such an entreaty, she must purge herself of a memory, tainted by Lord Tunni, of when she first discovered her primitive bond to Bryeth.

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Author's Note: 

Urth is one of the three Norns, or Fates, in Norse mythology, who represents the past. The other two are Verthandi (present) and Skuld (future). The Norns are thought to weave the cloth of fate beneath the Yggdrasil, which is a great Ash tree associated with the creation of the Norse world.

In direct relation to this story, namesakes such as Mulco and Canute, as used in this chapter, are considered by the Haladin in this story as the name of the village for the head of the respected clan who resides there. It may be used in the future for places such as Haldad or Tunni, which will match the village name to the namesake to their leader.

_A little background on Frey and Freya, if you are interested, _or in the case that you are completely unfamiliar with Norse mythology.

Frey and Freya were brother and sister, sometimes referred to as twins and thought of as the god and goddess of fertility, and Freya as most beautiful, etc.

In this tale, the god Frey is to be specifically honored at times of harvest whereas Freya will be more actively venerated during the spring time when it seems most natural, and there is a strong desire for primal mating experienced by both man and beast, separately and with their own species, of course. More plainly said, for the seeds of the earth, and procreation as a whole, to be planted in fertile ground which is springtime.

The representations of Frey and Freya as priest and priestess is directly from the Heimskringla, by Snorre Sturlason. Freya is referenced in rank as a god. In addition, a woman of nobility or who ruled or owned their own property or household was given the title of "Freya." For the sake of Haleth's story, I have designed to focus my efforts on Freya's representation in Norse mythology as told in the Heimskringla.

The colorful character Freya becomes commonly depicted as is the Norse goddess of love, the goddess who chooses the slain from the battlefield to go to Valhalla, and as the goddess who rides a boar, etc. All of these are represented and provided as the basis of development for a more exaggerated myth of Freya, shown in the Poetic Edda, translated by Lee M. Hollander. I only use the term "exaggerated" as the stories of Freya in the Poetic Edda are more colorful than in the Heimskringla. It is in no way meant to imply anything other than that.

Although the information in the Heimskringla about good seasons and peace is strongly implied to be a direct result of Frey's goodwill, I have transferred, or rather chosen to apply this reference to Freya as well, for the purpose of this story centering on Haleth as she emerges as a leader after the death of her father and brother during this tale. If you are familiar with the Heimskringla story of the Ynglinga Saga, you will surely see the similarities between Haldad, Haldar and Haleth to the Norse counterparts of Niord, Frey and Freya, which was a strong source of reference and inspiration for telling this fictional story of "The Haladin."

If you would like to chat more about Norse mythology and the Haladin, I would be glad to hear from you and encourage you to e-mail me directly. I am always interested to hear another person's perspective and interpretation of information and enjoy such discussions.

* * *

  
Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	4. IV THE SUMMIT AT MULCO

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

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_Chapter IV_  
**THE SUMMIT AT MULCO**  
**  
**

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Haleth commanded deep concentration with the efficiency created from many years of practice of as a priestess and pictured Bryeth, long midnight hair flowing past broad, chiseled shoulders with a look reserved only for her that shown savage devotion, softened only by the warmth in his light brown eyes. 

Her memory traveled back to the spring feast held last year in Bryeth, near the foot of Mount Dolmed, where many couples of their clans were joined in union. With the festivities waning, Haleth, as solitaire an Edain as ever there was, meant to make a quick trip to the steamy spring of great renown located in a nearby wood on Bryeth's lands, wishing that Lord Bryeth would join her.

Alas, it would be as it was willed by fate. After having a refreshing bath, perhaps she could tempt the good Lord Bryeth to partake in the luxurious bathing ritual after his duties of host were done with for this night. A steambath at dawn, she thought wistfully, knowing the master of these lands would be too occupied with duty. This would not be a reality for her to enjoy, yet.

Their intentions had been announced to only a few on this day, which meant they intended to be joined in the following year's spring festival. Haleth looked forward to exploring the special bathing area and occupied her mind with the fantasy of what would come when they were joined in the eyes of all the clans.

The picture in her mind's eye of Bryeth's tender, yet ferocious gaze had then steeled her against the fear she had been feeling at being caught unaware by a drunken and belligerent Lord Tunni during her fanciful trip. How it happened, she remembered not.

Before the reality of the situation could become clear, she found herself under the resolute pressure of Tunni's body pressed over hers, meeting her rigid and uninviting frame. The top of his half of his body was raised above her, and in Haleth's mind, seemed to be suspended in time and space. He looked down at her as the beams of moon filtered through a cloudy sky, showing flashes of lust from his greedy eyes. Both Haleth and Tunni laid upon the forest floor, deep within the woods. They were in the thickest part of the forest near a grove of ash trees, and for Haleth, there was no hope of escape.

_No_, she thought with determination when what was happening finally set into her methodological reasoning, it was her wits and wiles that may make a women such as her a capable enemy against a man's might and brawn.

Giving Lord Tunni an inviting smile, she met his predatorial gaze and wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him on top of her as she ran her fingers through his dark hair as it spilled upon her flesh. With little wasted effort, he had quickly begun to paw at her clothes, moving her dress down to reveal the smooth skin of her milk-white shoulders.

Haleth gently pushed him to his back, leading him into her trap as he forcefully pulled down the rest of her top to the waistband of her dress, treated to a show of alabaster breasts, highlighted by pale moonlight. Though the release of her breasts from the restraining garments would have normally been a welcome feeling, it only urged Haleth forward with her quickly formulating plan.

She gritted her teeth and cursed wildly in her head that Tunni should get such an indulgence at her expense. Haleth quickly recovered control, steadying her thoughts as an adrenaline rush of nervous excitement filled her heart and sent her stomach into chaos.

She challenged him with her eyes and he responded, taking her breasts in his large, powerful hands and then kneading them like dough, raising his mouth to explore what taste they may offer to him.

Instead of entertaining his further selfish indulgence, she smiled seductively and stood-up, taking a step back to place herself near his knees. Haleth made a dramatic gesture to remove the rest of her clothes when suddenly, her mouth spread into a wide grin before she grimaced and sent a mighty kick to his groin.

Her thoughts of shame at having to use her body coupled with Tunni seeing her half-naked form could not fully surface as she turned and ran as fast as her feet would allow. Haleth felt the snap of hostile branches against her bare skin, but continued to spur herself onward with an insulted, but extremely proud, manner superimposed on her face.

Fear, she found out later, would replace that giddy feeling of victory. With every encounter she had with Lord Tunni, she cringed inwardly, knowing a powerful man like him would most certainly extract his own revenge at some future moment in time. He was also proud and, like her, refused to discuss their encounter with any, though for much different reasons.

Despite her fear, Haleth longed to tell Bryeth of this encounter, but later reasoned that Lord Tunni had not been among those who knew of their recent engagement. Besides, Haleth was embarrassed and angered. Furthermore, she reasoned, Bryeth's anger, added to her father's outrage, would be brutal. There would be little doubt of a civil war among the clans.

Before long, Tunni found out of their betrothal along with the rest of the people as the rumor spread among the settlements. He had accosted her, not knowing of her engagement to Bryeth. Yet, she wondered why he would presume to dare force himself on the daughter of one of the tribe's leaders in such a manner.

But, she reasoned, he had been drunk and nothing had come of his vengeance toward her yet, except for the growing apprehension she had when she was near him. That was an emotion she alone would deal with, and thus be able to safeguard the worst that could possibly happen to their already scattered peoples.

Haleth breathed deeply, recalling herself to the present. Picking up the sage, she drew invisible symbols in the air. Then, resting the herb upon her brow for a moment, she laid it over her heart before setting it back down upon the stone shelf of the well.

Setting the carved bowl down upon the ground she kneeled and sprinkled a small amount of earth and sage onto the water's surface. Next, she plucked a strand of hair and adding it to the mixture as she gently swirled the now murky water, chanting the words used by the Ancient Ones.

Haleth closed her eyes and focused on what she was entreating the mirror to see as she invoked Urth and felt the breeze sweep violently in answer as she opened her eyes and looked into the now crystal clear, smooth surface of water.

A battle cry blasted from Bryeth's lips before he set his jaw and bared his teeth in aberration, bravely leading what little number of warriors he had into the onslaught of Orcs that came upon them with no warning.

As his lean, muscular frame cut down what seemed like multitudes of the filthy, blackened enemy, he made an abnormal pause and looked up into the horizon. In the distance, Haleth could see a small hillside.

Suddenly a look of surprise and relief crossed his handsome, weathered features. However, in a subtle instant of realization, his eyes immediately narrowed. Haleth followed his gaze in her vision, but a heavy veil of mist was drawn before her, obstructing her view as she struggled vainly to see what it is her lover had seen during his final battle on Middle-earth.

An ill-tempered wind seemed to murmur a warning into her ear as the vision ended, "_You know well that this is not your memory to possess, and you will have to bear a heavy burden for your willfulness! You, a priestess trained, should have better judgement and control of your personal desires."  
_

* * *

Haldar arrived with Lord Tunni and his entourage into the bustling trading town of Mulco, located between the River Gelion and the River Ascar. After a total of three day's ride from Tunni, Haldar was glad to receive a fully thorough bath at the household of Mulco, where he and Tunni finally parted. 

Already, an informal court was in session as the different tribes talked amongst themselves in whispered conversations taking place in public domains. The dark blue eyes and black hair of the People of Tunni always seemed to look menacing and fierce as they spoke little, even amongst themselves, while the tribes that rallied under Mulco were a mixture of good humor and varied physical appearance.

Only those of the ancient folk of Mulco could claim the fair hair and the light blue eyes similar to the people of Hador Goldenhead. This ancient folk had mingled amongst the array of assimilated families from all regions that made their residence in this small city of commerce.

Mulco was a thriving city, albeit modest, featuring trade of all goods imaginable and set in a ripe location where the two rivers of Ascar and Gelion crossed. Like his ancestors who parted and established a realm in Estolad, Mulco was thought of with polite disregard by Caranthir, the Noldor Lord who dwelled north of the scattered settlements of the tribes of the Haladin.

The tribal leaders only awaited the arrival of Canute before the formal assembly ensued, which should be anytime now, in Haldar's estimate. Haleth should have only been a day or two behind their party. He trusted that she would be more persuasive than any other could be when set to the task of convincing the most respected shaman of all the realms, Lord Canute, to come to a council outside of his own secret and protected realm.

The meetings were never successfully peaceful, in Haldar's reckoning, due to the difference in some of the cultures and priorities of whose occupations were most noteworthy.

In times like this the importance of a warrior clan, even one as small in size as those under Lord Tunni, would be valued over the many tribes that produced farmers and seers, or that even of merchants.

"Haldar," Haldad said in greeting after his son emerged from the bathhouses of Mulco. "It is likely that I should find you here."

"Aye," Haldar replied kindly in the face of his father's joy. "I was in much need of cleansing the grim from such a dusty and hard journey."

A laugh danced up to his father's eyes and was expressed in voice. The elder of the two men wondered if recalling so many similar adventures in his long lifetime would astound or bore his only son. There would be plenty of time for such tales, he reasoned as he pushed the immediate urge away, over future years to pass with his son and grandson. Perhaps even by then, Haldar would have some more exciting stories of his own to add.

"Yes, my boy!" Haldad boomed with good humor, "A journey such as that would well warrant such fine a reward and treatment."

Haldar laughed along with his father before the pleasantries passed, and the subject of the matter playing on Haldad's mind was broached.

"Haleth will arrive with whoever of the nomads under Canute's rule will come," he said to his father as they fell in step beside each other, making their way to the Great Hall of Mulco.

"That too, I assumed," Haldad said cynically, but allowing a small grin to cross his face, as he marveled at the intuitiveness from his offspring.

Knowing the act was up, Haldad asked with concern, "How is my daughter?"

Haldar answered with a tone of amusement in his voice, "She is Haleth, father. No more, no less. The news disturbed her, to be sure, but it did not break her. Did you think it would?"

Haldad smiled now, directly at his son, holding down an urge to pry with more questions, and put an affectionate arm around Haldar, "I am gladdened to hear such news."

By the end of the afternoon, Haleth had arrived with Canute himself, to everyone's surprise, as well as many of the various leaders of the nomadic tribes whose scattered dwellings were along the foot of Mount Dolmed, near the Ered Luin.

Haldad smiled warmly at his kin, waiting for his opportunity, and after making the formal and traditional greetings, lunged toward Canute, engulfing him in an affectionate embrace.

"I am glad to see you, dearest of all my kin," Canute said in a low voice, before pulling away from Haldad's embrace so he could turn to his daughter.

"My Haleth," Haldad whispered with soulful admiration as his eyes began to mist for a brief moment before he pushed the comparison of mother to daughter away from his conscience mind.

Haleth looked at him and saw a hint of sadness behind his normally bright eyes and reached out to embrace him.

"I think I know a little of the sadness you have felt for so many years, father," she said softly into his ear before breaking away from him, a brave smile upon her face.

"More than a little," Haldad replied solemnly after Haleth departed with a servant of Mulco to the Great Hall for fresh clothing and a much needed bath.

Haldad frowned, his eyes following her into the house of Mulco, but before he could dwell on his encounter with his daughter, Canute put a strong hand on his shoulder.

Haldad's smile abruptly grew wide as he turned and went with Canute into the Great Hall. The two talked with good nature of insignificant things, before Canute and his associates were shown to their quarters. After they had all bathed and eaten, they would have a well-earned night of rest before attending the summit scheduled for the next day.

Later that evening, in the dim torchlight of the stone hall, Lord Tunni spotted Haleth, but remained at his present distance as he noted Haldad's position out of his peripheral vision.

Though his thoughts of having to challenge Haldad's anger made his adrenaline pump twice as hard as normal, he questioned who would be the victor in such a fight. Not only was Haldad tall and sturdy, he was cunning and unlike most of the peace-loving priests Tunni knew. No, he thought, this particular godi fought bravely and with honor whenever a time called for it, unlike the passive Lord Canute. There was also something about Haldad's manner of fighting that seemed a bit mad and desperate.

Tunni's thoughts involuntarily drifted to the battlemaiden, and later wife of Haldad, who used to charge at his side into the fray. Tunni quickly shook off the vision. Her look forced his mind to drift again to Haleth, who stood erect and regal in an olive-colored gown of velvet. The green of her dress only seemed to accent her light eyes, giving them an exotic look that was framed with her dark brown hair, unrestrained and falling like silk around devilishly high cheekbones.

There was a brief thought of her toned backside, in tight riding britches and tunic, leather boots hugging lean legs running up to a shapely waist. It was the only part of her he had not been able to view as of yet, and the part that most intrigued his imagination.

He dared not imagine the clean, herbal smell that must now be emanating from her - a smell so different from what he was accustomed to, or cared for, because of its strong tenor on his senses. He remembered the first few times when he had women who had come to his bed freshly doused in the floral fragrances of herbs and perfumes, and they had barely escaped unbroken from his ardent cravings.

He preferred Haleth, or any woman for that matter, to emit the smell of a long journey where sweat was drawn out of the pores by hot rays of sun and the dust created by hooves blew and stuck to the skin, layering itself one over the other as the hours of the day waned. The most natural essence generated from the body was a scent with which he could assure himself complete and utter control, remaining steady enough to thoroughly enjoy his pleasure.

If Haleth had not been bathed so fragrantly that night at Bryeth, and if he had not been so intoxicated and uncontrollable, he would have been able to take his time and seduce her into his authority. Instead, his overindulgence in drink, and that damnable scent of hers, had made him over-confident and greedy, pushing his wants of pleasure at a time he would have known in sobriety to have been unripe.

He knew exactly why she had refused a full bath at his home. Tunni grinned for a fleeting moment, recalling how she had often indulged in cleansing rituals when at the training grounds of Canute, and how the smell of her own stench must have at least irritated her during her stay at his hidden stronghold.

Tunni did not know if it was a trick of the dim light in the Great Hall or if her skin looked to be pink. He settled on the later, knowing she had been riding much, as of late, to bring news and gather the tribes in the face of the Orc-raids. The normally pale features that graced her face were now a rosey pink in the flickering flames of the banquet room.

He would have laughed aloud, but instead he shook the thought away, a resentful grimace portrayed on his dark features, turning his sadistic gaze to the fire that licked toward the flue of Mulco's stone hearth.

A penetrating look, intent on nothing less than harmful possession, rendered Tunni's face a mask of displeasure and frustration as he commanded his thoughts away from the tall, Amazonian maiden. Taking a large swig of wine imported from Haldad's land, he quickly spit it out toward the fire, detesting the taste that swung his thoughts again to Haleth.

Watching Lord Tunni, Haleth smiled to herself, knowing she was inside a protective boundary. Her fear subsided into a dangerous safety zone as she entertained the thoughts of vengeance she thought to force upon Lord Tunni someday.

However, a mortified voice somewhere in the depths of her being screamed a drowned-out warning against the enthusiasm of her own anger, warning against further wrath from mysterious powers beyond the reckoning of any who resided on Middle-earth.

Haldad caught her eye, giving his daughter a puzzled look of interest before he motioned to his children that it was time to depart for the evening. In walking with their father away from the gathering, they practiced the time-honored custom required for those accompanying the leader of their tribe. In unity, it was thought by their ancestors that those who depart with their leader could never be accused of treason against their godi, assuming as that thought may be to those practiced in the arts of deception.

With a devious wink, Haleth passed Lord Tunni, who barely nodded a departing greeting to Godi Haldad and his children as they passed him, making their way down a corridor filled with the dancing shadows cast from flaming torches hung on either side of granite walls.

The next morning arrived early for the servants who were set quickly to their chores cleaning up the remains from the party the previous evening. While most of the dignitaries slept into mid-morning, Canute and many of his tribesmen shown to be the exception to most of the tribal leaders and their respective parties who had consumed too much of everything, choosing gluttony over moderation.

As the mid-day meal passed with little ceremony, the afternoon drew to a close and the evening fires stretched out across a large clearing surrounded by ash and oak where an oath-stone dominated the center of the ring.

Only important council took place under the sky's roof, where no fabricated walls might contain the purity of a gift considered to be straight from the deities. Clean and clear air, representing the power of the gods and believed by most of the scattered tribes to propagate the same attributes to the mind of those in attendance, who were truly with the gods in accordance with the Old Faith.

However, it was widely known that the practices of the Old Faith were receding, especially among the tribes of Mulco and Tunni. Mulco, with the outside interference and mingling of other Edain who were not of their tribes and Tunni with his whispered slanders and rebellious practices.

Tunni, more than Mulco, was on the verge of completely breaking with all the customs of the Old Faith and refusing to follow the basic laws set by the ancient leaders who remained in the east, foreboding the journey over the Blue Mountains. It was Tunni they needed most at this time, and Tunni, who they would have to woe, although many of the tribes would have wished to excommunicate him.

It was the custom of the tribes that gathered to make ceremonial introductions and presentations before the main agenda of the debate was started, where the host leader would speak first, opening up the debate for the assembled chieftains.

Towards the end of Mulco's address, Tunni could hold his place no longer and at Mulco who's plan was to flee and beg the safe haven of Caranthir, the fair Eldar king of the North.

Though Haldad and Canute shared Tunni's desire to remain separate from the Eldar at all cost, they did not express support due his disrespectful and condescending temper directed at Mulco.

A vicious bickering broke out among the two tribes. Canute raised his hands, his normally quiet, reflective voice rose with torrential fury, as if thunderbolts were about to reign down from the very heavens.

"Silence! You ignorant, arrogant fools!"

All attention was drawn instantly to Canute, who was now standing with formidable indignation, as the lips and words of opposing forces aimed in argument were froze in mid-breath.

Tunni held his tongue, barely, out of forced respect, glaring harshly at the old man as he awaiting his next words with the others of the convention who stood near the center of a ring.

"Bickering children!" Canute raged, looking directly at Tunni. "Can you not exchange _any _views in a respectable manner?"

Tunni felt as if he was the small child again that his mother had sent to Canute to be schooled under the ancient seer, learning to battle only with the tools of his mind. The resistance he had directed at Lord Canute back in those days was futile, and finally after many months, he opened his mind to the arts of intellectual war.

After stubborn days spent in various trials of argument to thwart the attempts of his lessons at the hands of the priests, he realized it was to his advantage to learn all arts of war, including the secret mental arts of unity with the higher keys of learning which could unlock the mind. After he had reasoned with himself to learn what he could, he completed only the minimal training required, if only to please his mother and escape the tutelage of Canute, who seemed invaded his mind far too often.

After a long silence, Lord Canute continued in a languid voice. "I declare an impasse, then, between the House of Mulco and the House of Tunni. Let us hear what Godi Haldad would say on the matter."

"My kin," Haldad began boldly, with a hint of anger, boiling beneath the surface of an entreating facade. "How can we band together to fight the Orc if we fight so viciously amongst ourselves?"

* * *

Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	5. V THE OATH STONE

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

* * *

_Chapter V_  
**THE OATH-STONE**

* * *

"Our time dwindles," Haldad continued after a lengthy pause. His eyes unmasked the suffering he felt in his heart, bringing the intended effect of guilt from most of the other leaders. 

Anticipating further necessity to Lord Tunni's ego, he pressed onward with his address, "The majority of us are not warlords, or even warriors, with the exception of Lord Tunni's powerful regiment."

Lord Tunni bestowed a rare, respectful bow to Haldad, acknowledging his statement and visibly stood more upright at his compliment, like a cobra uncoiling and poised tall for admiration before he strikes. A few moments ago, an armed Tunni would have defiled the sanctity of their meeting grounds, for surely the reputation of his rash temper would have instigated bloodshed.

"There can be hope in this fact, my Lord Mulco, for our pride, honor and defense against the common enemy who set forth from the cold, dark lands of the north. I say, it was this same enemy," Haldad said, gaining momentum, "that my sources recently told me escaped the leaguer of the very same elven lord you ask us to beg safety of, is that not so?"

Mulco nodded reluctantly at the slight censure and cast his eyes down momentarily, before meeting the hard edge in Haldad's smoldering eyes.

"There is no shame in debating your suggestion, my respected host, Mulco," Haldad said kindly before he continued.

"You must certainly know well, as chieftains _and_ as _men_," he added, invoking the highest goading technique of suggesting the slightest hint of cowardice which he knew could not be denied, "That we must fight to protect the land of our gods, for our way of life, and those who have entrusted their care to us! A Godi, my dear friends, is not only meant to lead the people in veneration to the gods and maintain the temples - we have a responsibility and must protect those who have entrusted us with their care, be it spiritual or physical!" Haldad exclaimed loudly over mingled cries of agreement.

The crowd was beginning to focus on his reason and throw their encouragement into the throng of cheers, knowing obstaining would show that they accepted the highest insult of them being a weak man.

"We have squandered precious time sparring with words amongst ourselves and gathering all our people has yet to take place. Unite and move to action soon, or we shall have _nothing _left worth saving! Rise up to your duty _now_, my brothers, and defend that which determines your survival, and those who are in your care!"

Knowing this was a pinnacle moment, Haldad focused all his passion and argument into his final statement, which he adeptly knew would either make or break him. The mass of leaders were beginning to turn into one voice of clamored excitement, as Haldad's voice raised above the crowd, beckoning them to listen. Tunni casually stood nearby, his arms folded across his broad chest and his face void of any sign of emotion as Haldad acutely sized him up for a moment. He knew that Lord Tunni's support was essential in this defense, or his words would have little meaning, and the people who were entrusted to their care would be slaughtered in what should be a safe haven.

"We must fortify ourselves in a stockade and heed the advice and direction Lord Tunni would give us!"

The crowd exploded into a frenzy of approval as Tunni allowed a noticeable smirk of pleasure to extent across his face. The anticipation of battle and public acknowledgement of his skills mentioned in Haldad's passionate speech to all the kindred, his peers, gave Lord Tunni a twisted form of optimism. Their may still be hope for him to become the son-in-law he should have been the first choice for during the feast at Bryeth, and with Bryeth now out of the way, Tunni reasoned, he should be the natural choice.

There was acquiescence, and when this mess with the Orcs was successfully completed, he envisioned himself riding victorious upon his war-horse after slaughtering the enemy. Haleth would have little choice but to admit his prowess and concede his abilities.

Only the scattered peoples of Canute remained silent, neither joining nor disagreeing with the prospect Haldad suggested. Their voice would be clearly heard only when the formal vow was sworn upon the Oath-stone.

Canute closed his eyes, and lifted his face to the heavens for a moment as stars twinkled against the black curtain of night, as a dark depression overcame his features and the energy of oncoming change pulsated through the air.

Tunni, having mentally elevated himself as the natural choice of a central leader, prepared to accept the leadership of the scattered peoples who must now join under his banner. The only thing he lacked, was the heritage Godi Haldad possessed and as the oath meetings began to change, he reasoned that such a thing could be easily overlooked.

As the clamor of the crowd waned, Haldad spoke once again, with a calmer voice, reiterating what he stated previously, "We must build a stockade and prepare to defend ourselves in our own refuge at the land between the rivers near this very city where Lord Tunni can strategically plan the ambush of these destructive, foul creatures."

Tunni's confident smile quickly turned to a disturbing frown. He knew Haldad was right and that is exactly the way Tunni planned to begin his new Lordship, but Haldad's statement presented an immediate threat to his designs on being the undisputed leader of all the peoples. Tunni's anxiety level began to steadily climb as he became fretful over the idea of the people flocking to Haldad more so than they had just done.

"My honorable and respectable Lords," Lord Canute began with an exasperated, defeated sigh. "Think you this is the right path? Lord Tunni's small force will not be enough to defeat these foul barbarians in an ambush, let alone a formidable battle. We should disappear and let the gods shield us with the mountains and forests they generously provide for us from this tainted, black plague. We need only distance ourselves from the Dwarf-road."

Canute's pleas were heard and the crowd fell silent. Stunned, Tunni stood silently, as Lord Canute began to speak in his turn.

"No, my Lord Canute," Haldad said softly, "It is time we fought and stopped these diseased creatures from making any further trouble on man. The gods have willed that our time is now to make a stand against this filth who indeed defile the sacred fields Frey and Freya hold dear."

"You know well what I mean, my best of kin," Haldad added respectfully. "If the gods of harvest and planting require the blood of my people and I to soak the earth to quench the its thirst for anything less than traditional sacrifice, then it shall be so. But hear me, my most respected brother," Haldad repeated, "We must put an end to these creatures who destroy our god's gifts and the sustenance they provide us."

Canute bowed his head with grevious resignation, seeing a glimmer of his point, yet unwilling to completely agree. His visions of the future had come upon him uninvited, and he was torn between preserving their people and following the will of the higher powers.

Alas, he acknowledged himself as human, giving into the wonder of why Haldad, as gifted a seer as himself, was not treated to these visions showing the bloodlust and utter defeat of their people_so many innocent lives lost_, he thought gravely, _and_ _what of their people after they starved to death at the hands of the Orcs and all the great clan leaders lay dead, their blood sacrifice given unwillingly, and in violence, at the will of another_? _Would Haldad and his family survive_, Canute wondered, his thoughts careening and disappearing quickly into obliviation.

"Let us swear our oaths then, upon the Law Stone," Tunni called out resolutely, not wanting any further debate to cancel his glorious plans of death and victory.

Haldar watched his father carefully, clearly aware of Haldad's actions and how he carried himself, acutely thinking of the situations he may someday have to manipulate as a clan leader. His father and the other clan leaders approached the stones in the middle of the grove as Haldar yearned for the strength his sister's bond would give him, wishing Haleth was there to witness the debate. He still held onto a vain hope that she could work her powers of persuasion on Canute to join with them. Alas, it was not their custom to allow females into the sacred councils, no matter if they were highborn or not and so, any attempt to convince Canute would be in vain. If the oaths were swore now, it would be the only opportunity for any of the leaders to either join forces, or return to their homesteads.

Canute would not swear his oath and Haldar knew this just as well as his father knew it. It simply was not Canute's way, nor the way of the exotic nomadic tribes that gave to him their allegiance. _What of the necessity of a unanimous decision?_ Haldar wondered in awe as he sensed a powerful, foreboding change to their way of life in the air around him, which seemed to scorch him with a charged electrical current which had been unknown to him until this moment.

Perhaps the Oath-stone alone was powerful enough to garnish such deviation from procedure, and perhaps the unique situation gave the lack of traditional proceedings final weight for the laws of that year had already been determined at the Althing. Already the Autumn Meeting, where the decisions from the Althing had been announced, was over and Harvest-month was approaching fast and the time drew closely near where even now the sacred trees shown hints of colorful leaves that would explode in an eruption of red, gold and orange. The winds had already started to become chilled in the mornings and nights, but the days remained humid and the rays of the sun kindly warmed any skin that was left bare.

_No_, Haldar thought sadly for a moment, _it is not only the change of seasons that energizes the air_.

Lord Tunni was the first among the chieftains to anxiously swear his oath, followed by a still hesitant Lord Mulco. As Haldad made his way to the gray stones that stood piled high like a temple, he paused before Lord Canute, meeting his gaze for a few drawn-out moments before raising his hands to him in a blessing. Canute nodded, a somber smile etching his face and returned the gesture before departing form the council.

Haldad slowly followed with the other Thingmen and swore the consecrated oath to join the one who had not yet been officially chosen, but who would lead them to victory, or death.

The men that lead the scattered peoples who lived in Thargelion were wearing thinly stretched, grim faces that took upon themselves the inevitable look of a death. However, for tonight the leaders would meditate on the unnamed one who would draw them together in this courageous movement.

There was a feast that night and Tunni was in a noticeably happy mood, blatantly glancing to where Haleth stood, catching her eye whenever he could chance it.

Tunni felt invincible, and even the prospect of confessing his indirect death of Bryeth seemed a trifle in which he could picture Haleth forgiving him, after he had already taken her to his marriage bed - then there would be no escape for her, no way she could refuse to stay with him. Although he may have a few cold nights, he reasoned, there was little need for him to worry overmuch on the situation. Besides, he almost laughed aloud, there were other women who could occupy his need for release until Haleth came back to him.

_And if she would not have your highly respectable and less-than-honorable lordship_, a trifling voice taunted sarcastically with danger. _And if she does not, _Tunni replied resolutely within himself, cruel intention integrating anger and passion in his veins, _I would have her one way or another_.

"Do you think the people might choose him to lead us all?" Haleth asked grimly as she stood near her brother, moving her eyes toward Tunni as he face was overcome by a stern look of determination.

Haldar was taking a long draught from his ornately carved, wooden goblet and nearly spewed the amber liquid from his mouth when he heard Haleth's blatantly direct question.

"Reserve your speech to a low volume, young gentlewoman," he hissed, surveying the populated chamber full of kinsmen nervously. "You should discern your verbalizations better than to make any public utterance of information from the concealed proceedings that occurred at the council! Even at this late hour of night, my dear sister, do not even begin to attribute your dulled wit to insufficient amount of sleep."

"Aye, aye - you made your entrance onto this land before I did, yes, yes - and I recognize when I am being chided - you and your formal speech, indeed, brother mine!" she said impatiently, acknowledging that his point had been firmly made upon her. "I know I am not to suppose any ounce of knowledge of any such matters belonging solely to men, but when has that every stopped us from sharing," Haleth added, smiling with amusement. "Father trusts me and that trust from a Godi should be respected from his peers."

Haldar scowled ferociously for a moment and then sighed heavily as he flashed a mischievous smile at his twin sister, alike in physical appearance and even more alike in mind, though he thought she was, of course, definitely the more strong-willed between the two of them. "We can comprehend this as our own way of life, but not everyone believes in such roles for women in society as father does, now do they? Alas, I tell you what you already presume, do I not?"

Haleth nodded and looked around the room, as Haldar had done a moment ago, feigning compliance as she took notice of the light that began to shine in her brothers normally, pale gray-blue eyes as flecks of gold seemed to permeate the iris. Her seed she had planted in her brother's thought had already taken root and was budding with the beginnings of fruit.

Haldar replied thoughtfully, "It would suit reason, I suppose, but I know not who they will choose thought the obvious choice should be father. You know as well as I how unpredictable an outcome may be with so many different styles of rule involved, and with Canute and his peoples planning to depart after the breaking of fast in the morn - would that women were allowed in these proceedings and perhaps you could have said something to convince him to join us."

Haleth nodded with trepidation, "Here is another of many secrets I share with you, my beloved brother, Lord Canute would not be convinced of something had he not already set his mind upon it. Nevertheless, what you speak is true concerning these tribes, but I invoke the Ancient Ones to not move the spirits of these people to follow Tunni for he will take advantage of such a thing and build upon the power it would bring until we were all training as warriors and the wisdom of ages dies."

Haleth shuddered at the resonance of her own words, spoken and now dissipating too quickly for her comfort into the universe, as speechlessly, she chastised herself. Who was she to speak of invoking the Ancient Ones when she was cursed for her careless, thoughtless actions of selfish desire?

"Aye," Haldad said heavily, as he brought up his lean form to tower between his two adult children, placing a weighty hand on their individual shoulders. "That he would, but be not so quick to summon the intervention of the gods, my child. This is a matter for the men of Middle-earth to sort."

The vital fluid of life seemed to freeze as Haleth recalled the feeling of dread when she heard the warning murmured at the hallowed field in Canute when she called forth a memory that was not her own. Could her intuitive father, an enlightened prophet and seer, know her transgression, she wondered, before she dismissed the thought as a ludicrous fantasy of her overactive imagination and paranoia. Nay, he could not know and, as dear as she was to him, he would surely flog her for her tenacity and foolishness without hesitation, bound solely to his vow to uphold the laws associated with the keeping of practices more ancient that could be recalled in even his own experiences. This was a warning for her thoughts alone, and could not involve any of those she cherished.

"We will extend our complete support to whichever leader is chosen by our combined nations - we must do this no matter what the cost," Haldad continued to say adamantly, in a low voice. "The People of Tunni obey him in everything, with little choice, so there will be no need for him to ride back to consult with his people, however, most are here because most are men, for as you know, there are few women who dwell in his settlements. Canute will not participate, so there is no delay in that, but the people of Mulco will be a tough lot to determine - so many of them with different backgrounds and cultures. But again, there is no wait on that account because all his people are here in the village, or close enough to arrive in a short time. What say you on the matter, Haldar, my son?"

Haldar thought for a few moments, his chocolate colored eyebrows creasing ever slightly, letting the thoughts his father voiced aloud sink in to his reasoning before he spoke, "Our men, like Tunni's, will follow your will Godi Haldad," Haldar said with a respectful bow to his father, and leader.

"And what would the women folk say, Haleth?" Haldad said, turning to his daughter.

"Some would weep for the sure death of their loved ones, and some would rise up tall, wanting to join the fray and stand with honor against the enemy," she replied with resilient fact.

Haldad knew the group a daughter of his would select without a moment's thought, and he beamed discerningly with eyes glimmering brightly in the dancing flames of firelight.

"Do you feel it should be put to a women's council?"

"No, I see nothing that should make that a necessity," Haleth said with a slight hesitation, knowing well the complaint the women would have, yet knowing even better how they would agree. Whatever Godi Haldad proclaimed, they always willingly accepted as their fate at the end of all debates.

"Aye," Haldad nodded with erupted with pride, his stomach fluttering inside the cavity of his body at having anticipated her decision. He saw her confidence blossoming each day, and his heart rejoiced at the strength and decisiveness of her spirit at this critical moment in time and he knew that the time arrived for him to give her more responsibility, even if the other chieftains frowned upon it.

Haldad was the kind of man to trust in the judgement of those close to him and give them the option to make the right choice without hindernece or interference of any sort. As free will was a gift bestowed by the gods, so it would continue to be given through the command of Godi Haldad.

"Then, my daughter, you must depart without delay from here at this very moment for our lands and let the torches of the immeasurable twinkling stars lead you. Haldar will send messengers, which will allow you to ride directly home. Gather them quickly, Haleth, and bid them travel light for we must make more haste than when we last set out upon our homeland."

"Do not count on any delays from here, Haleth," Haldad continued. "If we are not here when you return, proceed westward toward the cross-section of the rivers of Ascar and Gelion. I would send your brother as an escort, if I did not already know he would only slow you down," Haldad added, winking at Haldar who righteously scoffed, taking another long draught from his beverage.

With her father's blessing, Haleth drained her chalice and gave both men a curt nod, making her way to her chamber and changing into her traveling clothes, gathering only the necessary provisions for her night ride to the settlements.

The winding, and normally dusty trail to the settlement was saturated with the wet dew that only comes upon the land during the deep hours of night, though the earth below it remained hard, refusing any of the moisture into its pours. As Haleth rode onward, urging her horse at a hard pace and stopping only briefly every hour to let her drink and graze, her mind became a torrent whirlwind of thought. Her heart overflowed with anxiety and she thought of the reality of the Orc-raid that drew near as she wondered briefly if Mulco or Canute were right to flee, whether it was to the Elven Lord, Caranthir, or into the mountains.

Of her tribe, she knew that not all would answer her father's call, caring little for what seemed to her like the obvious reasons of safety in numbers. There would be some of them who would die before leaving their homes to the filthy ransacking of the Orc army that pounded their way along the Dwarf-road, destroying everything in their path.

Haleth smiled. Her father had always maintained, for as far back as her thought could reach, that it was their right to follow their own free will, and for that, they had given him much respect and loyalty. In this particular case of the very real possibility of brutal and unmerciful attack, Haleth knew some of their people would purposely practice their right to do as they willed.

Many of the folks of the disseminated tribe leaders lived too near the Dwarf-road, save Canute, and could not be immune from the cruel and inhumane destruction of the enemy. The only areas that were hidden to those who did not know the various ways of their people were the capital villages that lay shrouded in disguise to strangers. Most of the people of their lords roamed where they would, and in their fair turn settled where they would. Many of these homesteads even refused to acknowledge any lord of any sort, giving their full trust directly to the gods of their own choosing, seeing only weakness in the rule of other men.

The pride of such men would cause countless deaths and the shedding of more innocent blood. Blood, she thought ruefully, lifting her face to the sky and with regret, she lowered her head and closed her eyes. Bryeth's face appeared in a hazy vision of gray mist as he looked upon her with pity and sadness.

_Why does he look at me that way, with damnable pity in his eyes_, she screamed in her mind as her hands began to shake with rage, frustrated by what she could not interpret. The glowering countenance of Tunni replaced Bryeth's without warning as Haleth startled in a dazed bewilderment.

The unforeseen vision ended with a curtain of vivid crimson and then darkened as the particles of air mingle with the blood, drying it into an aged, crusty substance. A substance no longer scared unless the earth could drink it and replenish the dirt of fruitfulness and the life-blood of their existence.

The wind picked up in an errie, unnatural rhythm, "_â€you will have to bear a heavy burden for your willfulness!_"

"Plague me no more," she growled into the night wind, her voice floating into the abnormal silence that met her ears, as even the leaves on the trees dared not rub against one another.

Haleth vigorously shook the thought from her brain, opening her eyes with frantic wonder. She felt uneasy, knowing she did not command to the higher powers as she once had begun to do and knowing full well that she had earned whatever punishment should come of her offense demonstrated in the field at Canute.

_But how grevious had her offense really been_, she wondered. _Surely not grevious enough to warrant severe repercussions_, she thought, trying to ease her nerves. _Bryeth is already dead, what could possibly be a more heavy burden than that - to go through life knowing the mate of her soul was on another level of existence that she was no longer welcome at and that they could perhaps not even be together in death because of her foolishness, with no hope of children to continue either bloodline_.

Haleth mounted her horse with fervent need, trying to hasten away from her thoughts, or expect that they be muddled with the jarring ride, praying with desperation to her patron goddess, Freya, to forgive her the transgression she committed on the sacred ground at Canute and spare her any further torment.

_More foolish nonsense for my part_, Haleth thought firmly, admonishing herself once again. There was not a spare moment to waste on her personal problems and as her time wore thin, she would at the same time be forced to suffer what was willed with no further help for her actions. She had already begged forgiveness, half-scared onto the brink of insanity by voices and visions, and that was all that was left in her power that she could do.

_If only she was not knowledgeable in the rituals and the holy mysteries as a priestesses of Freya_, she thought with sudden bitterness, battling a good sense of blasphemy in her own mind against her goddess. There could be no praying for ignorance at this instant. It was time to go home and gather the remainder of her father's people, during the safety of the day's sunshine and the mid-day meal.

* * *

Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	6. VI SKALI

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

* * *

_Chapter VI_  
**SKÁLI**

* * *

Haleth ran the palm of her hand along the walls of turf and stone as her long, slender fingers followed their lead, hesitant to lose the sensation of the outside material that insulated the skáli where she lived with her father, Haldad. She stood for a few moments, lost in pleasant thoughts as a chilly wind caressed her skin. 

Before entering the expansive longhouse, she turned around and surveyed their land as golden fields of wheat spread far to the edge of a dark forest shaded by tall, green pines. Breathing deeply, she felt peace and happiness, even in the wake of the circumstances the Norns had beset upon her - no, she laughed as a serious look overcame her face without warning. She made a strong vow within herself that she should not lie within her own heart, for had done her part to earn fault for some of what her fate would be as time lead onward.

Her cheeks grew to round apple-like balls as she exhaled another deep and purifying breath, turning back around to open the timber doorway that lead to the familiar entrance hall. As she entered the house, she finally felt the comfort of a safe refuge and the wonderment of the strange feeling that seemed to overtake her senses. How easy it would be to stay here feeling safe from Orcs or any other force that might harm her, with the warmth of a blazing fire reaching high up to the rafters, searching and drifting ever higher, searching for the vent that meant escape, lest it consume that which surrounded its containment.

Her lips pursed tightly into a severe, thin line of irritation as she ousted the cheerful, carefree thought that had just moments ago warmed her soul beyond what she felt herself capable of feeling after the death of Bryeth. She would not be here long enough to experience any long-term ease, but would hope instead the simplicity of refreshment, and no interference in sending messages to the outer settlements. And if she could gain a near acceptable, or even decent amount of sleep before departing again - no, she dared not hope for such luxury.

Haleth shook her head as she began to realize she was on the borderline between self-pity and an exaggerated form of exalted martyrdom, in her own mind, and quickly squashed such wayward thoughts.

She continued down the lengthy great hall, where carved oak benches ran along either side of her down the length of the room, and then turned right down a short, narrow hallway to where their food was stored.

This sizable pantry held large, wooden casks of food along with some stored fruit wine and short mead, which had been fermented earlier that season. Haldad had fashioned his home around a small spring that this room had been built around, making getting fresh, drinkable water a small chore for any in his home who desired it. Although, back in those early days of being a newly wed gentlemen, he would have freely admitted his real reason: To impress his courageous warrior wife with his intelligence and creativity. Besides, he had suspected her lacking, at first, in the duties that went along with housewifery, and on that account, he had been right, but she had learned quickly and did what needed to be done when it needed doing.

Filling both arms with food and a fired clay jar brimming with mead, she took another right after she left the storage pantry and wrestled unsteadily with the door to the Main Room. Loathe to set down any of the treasures her ravenous stomach began to growl more loudly for, she was able to swing her hip and through a maneuver of pushing and bumping, she managed to open the door.

Sitting down at the cross-bench at the head of the room, she looked tore into her rations and after he appetite had been sated, she stared at the empty fire pit in front of her as she thrust her legs up upon the bench next to her. Her stomach gaining more and more satisfaction as the food finally began to digest after a hurried meal, she wiped her hands on her trousers and stood, bending to the side to pick up and drain the rest of her drink before stepping around the fire and walking along the long corridor. As she strode by the middle of the long passage, she trained her eyes deliberately away from the bed closet she passed and continued towards the Entrance Hall and out the doorway.

By her own will, Haleth only allowed herself to acknowledge her desire when she was well enough away from her house not to give-in to the temptation. Ah! What she wouldn't give for a lengthy sleep!

At least her belly was full enough, she reasoned, as she went about the business of sending messengers away to gather those who settled on the edges of the village who were under their guardianship.

Haleth stopped by the smithy and inquired about the number of weapons they might have at their disposal and then, promising to return to talk over the details of the business, resolved to continue on to her brother Haldar's home and grounds.

She had known her brother's wife through many changes of season, but she remained an unpredictable conundrum of mystery to Haleth. Smiling to herself as she viewed the low stone wall of their farm on the horizon, she knew that Haldar would not have it any other way and that no plain maiden could hold his fancy.

She was more blood sister than a sister only in law, and Haleth accepted her as one of the family with no questions or concern because it was what Haldar wanted, had always wanted. Though they trained in weaponry, day in and day out, sometimes at their old stomping grounds at Haldad's home and other times adventuring in the terrain of the landscape, they could always count on her to accompany them before she had given birth to their first son.

Haleth could admit only a slight tinge of jealousy, now that she had seen her dreams of a domestic life fade with the death of Bryeth, but often buried it quickly before it could take root. Two forces battled continuously inside her, pulling her to a quiet and peace-filled home life and the other raging at her to battle dark forces.

Alas, there had been no dark forces to battle since the time before her family had crossed the Ered Luin and battle seemed as foreign and far away as a worthy friendship with any of the High, Noldor-born elves. Her mother's rigid insistence of Haleth having to practice proper fighting with her brother mostly seemed asinine to her, but now she was beginning to see the value in it and felt thankful to have some skills to battle against this enemy who threatened an overall peaceful and untroubled existence.

Haleth reckoned her mother was laughing at her now, waging that bony finger towards her with a smile that reached the bright light of intelligence that shown in her eyes. Her mother. It had been far too many moons to count since she could think of her mother associated with a happy memory because most of the time she shut it down too quickly for it to become too painful to bear.

_Some priestess_, she thought a little sullenly, before she identified the path she was mentally riding down as she pulled up to the door of her brother's family. _Sweet slumber_, she thought suddenly for a fleeting moment, _my healing lies in sleep and the grace of recalling no dreams or uninvited visions._

Haleth vigorously jumped down from a rested horse that she rode to Haldar's homestead from her farm and pounded loudly on the sturdy oak door with the side of her clenched fist. If she could not directly consummate any form of immediate repose, at least her faithful roan mare should, she thought with superficial jealousy.

"Aye, my beautiful sister!" Jorhild exclaimed, thrilled with excitement as she glanced longingly beyond Haleth, searching eagerly for Haldar as she engulfed Haleth into an emotional and benevolent embrace.

"Haldar is required in Mulco, for they need all the strong and willing men to build our defense against the enemy," Haleth explained with a slight bit of consternation.

Jorhild looked at her without reserve, squinting her eyes and attempting to exact her condition by maintaining her gaze and trying to judge her suffering as her blunt and searching expression softened.

"I feel regret for all the moments that you have been deprived of, little bear," and after a moment's hesitation continued, "Why do you not come in - you must be starving!"

Haleth laughed at Jorhild's use of her nickname as she pictured her pig-like inhalation of food a little earlier and replied, "Nay, I should like a drink though for I am parched and the roads are thick with dust carried on a ruthless wind."

"Ah, you have already eaten then," Jorhild replied, the allegation earned Haleth an elevated eyebrow from her sister-in-law. "I am contented to see that you have not lost that celebrated and hardy appetite of yours, my esteemed sister."

Haleth's lips curved upward into a extensive grin that reached from eye to eye and her gray irises brightened into silver, like the new moon bursting forth from the darkness, "Where is Haldan?"

"Ah! That one! He is underfoot with the herdsmen out in the pastures this afternoon, but I expect him to return home later this evening," Jorhild said, shaking her head with such tumult that the strait strands of her hair escaped from the hair fastener she wore, doubtless thinking of some unshared and likely comical anecdote concerning Haldan.

Haleth nodded with a comprehensive grin stretched across her slender face as Jorhild sat down upon the wooden planks beside her in their hall, much like the one Haldad had at his home.

"What are the latest tidings you bring forth from abroad? I would have this information without the empty allure of glamour," Jorhild spoke with a candid glint of brutal straightforwardness that would have intimidated any who did not know her well. Her posture remained tall and sturdy, braced for whatever news Haleth would share with her.

Haleth's eyes lit up with laughter and she shook her head back and forth, appreciating Jorhild's abrasive method of being direct and forthcoming in all matters.

"We must remove as soon as all can be gathered to the intersection of Ascar and Gelion where the men plan to build a stockade of defense against the enemy."

"Hmmm..." Jorhild replied with skepticism, looking pensive as she considered Haleth's words carefully before responding. "Will we not be trapped and at their mercy should the stockade fail - and what of food and drink?"

Haleth nodded with added agreement at Jorhild's shrewd statement of criticism, wondering if any of the clan godis or Thingmen had given any weighty consideration to this very thought.

"I do not know the details, Jorhild," Haleth said regretfully, "But I suspect they must have examined such a situation and its necessities and are making plans to adjust to it."

"Humph," Jorhild snorted. "Well, it is in the hands of the men, then, and let the blood be on their hands should it fail," Jorhild said, her tone resigned with certainty.

Haleth started unexpectedly from her position and adamantly clasped both of Jorhild's hands. "Have you seen something then, Jorhild? Has Urth granted you a keen understanding of what is to develop from this threat?"

Jorhild stared at her for an instant, and then turned from her and considered her question for a length of time before she would explain. "No, I have not had any visions of the future as of late, but I feel..." she trailed off. "I feel...uneasy."

Startled by Jorhild's statement, Haleth's eyebrows creased together with apprehension as she considered Jorhild's words. After numerous years of disbelief and hesitancy, Haleth had had learned to rely on her visions with the utmost confidence.

Haleth polished off her refreshing draft and then rose to leave, "I must go to the smithy and find out how many useful weapons can be added to our numbers."

"After that, you must go home and sleep. Return tonight and sup with us for Haldan would dearly love to see his second mother," Jorhild added with a warm smile.

"Count on it," Haleth said as they walked out of the house.

After mounting her house and bidding Jorhild farewell, Haleth came upon the smithy as he wiped his hands upon his industrial apron.

"Well, what say you?" Haleth demanded with a teasing hint of zeal in her loud voice as she called to the blacksmith, Beinir.

The short, brawny smithy eyed her and then cracked a smile at her in with a lightened tone, welcoming the dealings with the godi's daughter and her knowledge of weaponry.

"Ah! No wilting flower here, I see, as always, my dear Lady," Beinir exclaimed, laughter on the brink of his bold and dauntless declaration.

Haleth smirked at him, almost exasperated by their typical exchanges as the smithy sighed and started to wipe his hands together as sweat gleamed on his face, glistening in the harsh sunlight of the day.

"We are lacking, I am unhappy to say," Beinir said with regret, meeting Haleth's eyes with apology.

Instead, Haleth smiled and dismounted from her horse, putting her hands on his leather apron, feeling ancient, thick forearms beneath, full of strength and mastery of mental.

"We are unprepared for this and no one foresaw its arrival," she said with reassurance. "We will make due with what we have and transport all the weapons we have to a stockade being built by the godis and Thingmen between Ascar and Gelion."

Haleth pressed on steady and absolute with her direction, "I comprehend all in this land, but through your dealings, you understand who may be more suitable and is better able to bear arms. We will send those men who remain here in Haldad ahead of the women and children and under your command, Beinir the Strong, once you have determined who is worthy of this task. You should hasten as briskly as you can endure because your assistance is needed in constructing the stockade, for your carpentry skills, which have been dormant for far too long, will be essential in aiding in the plan for defense. Messengers have already been sent, requesting the men on the outskirts come to your smithy before your departure. They should arrive by nightfall and it is of greatest importance that you leave as soon as they can be outfitted, even under the cloak of darkness."

Beinir's eyes widened for a moment before he looked at her solemnly and put both hands on her shoulders, "You may count on it, my Lady Haleth."

"You have never let the family down, Beinir, and you have always had our fullest confidence," she replied, bestowing a kind smile at him before she turned to mount her horse.

"Wait!" Beinir called, "I have something for you!"

Haleth arched her brow, gingerly wondering what frolicsome friskiness Beinir might be contemplating. Noting the intonation on her face, Beinir laughed with resounding vivaciousness and put an arm around her narrow shoulders as they walked into his workshop.

"You suspect foolery overly much," he replied mischievously as went to a table and picked up a small carved figure of a symbol of thick lines that entwined with the head of a bear.

"To protect you from the trolls," he said softly, but with a fierce expression of warning and command with his intonation.

Haleth stood motionless for an instant, speechless as she ran her thumb back and forth along the smoothed over grains of wood in her hands. Struggling to control the overpowering emotion that pushed against her shell of defense and normalcy, she slipped the leather string over her neck, never taking her eyes from Beinir.

"Thank you," she said as her words spilled forth in a croak.

Beinir patted her harder than necessary on the back as he began to grow uncomfortable with the intimate moment and Haleth's reaction.

Haleth realized how awkward Beinir must feel, worrying that she may be on the threshold of a womanly outburst of weeping and responded, "Have you not any steel for me as well, my good Beinir?"

Beinir broke into a wide grin and motioned for her to follow him into the depths of the room, were he uncovered a formidable sized dagger, hand-carved with a single, lone translucent emerald jewel encrusted in the hilt.

"This looks like my mother's dagger," Haleth whispered breathlessly.

"Aye, so it does," Beinir replied with a hint of difficulty. "It is much like the one she must use as she continues her journeys in the netherworld. Her jewel was brown, like the earth, for I knew well she loved all things that had their roots in the fertile fields, as her Freya," he paused in respectful silence, nodding towards the open door to the outside, "Would have willed it. But for you, my lady, the forest is your essence and so green must be your color."

Haleth nodded with approval, running her fingers along the blunt side of the blade and than lightly touching the sharp tip before she grasped it with both hands and made a few ceremonial swings which rang out with a swoosh of air. After attaching the small scabbard and new belt, she chose one of the standard swords in the smithy, and bade Beinir adieu.

Waving after mounting her horse, she continued home where she sat for a while on the cross-bench at the end of the main room, where it was customary for the women of the house to sit. Her thoughts drifted to a numb void as she curled up on the raised plank, and recovered her strength along with some of her spirit with forgotten dreams that were held at bay from her consciousness.

As she awoke in the newborn gloom of eventide with a stiff pain in her cramped neck as she at once moved to build a fire in the pit and stretch her rigid muscles, thinking ruefully of the comfortable bed closet that would have afforded her more physical pampering. Before long, Haleth began to warrant that that mayhap falling asleep on the hard wooden bench had been for the best because the main room had held a warm comfort all its own, whether a fire was blazing or the stone pit was full of gray ashes. It was an easy thought and an equally acceptable solution. The main room was the center of the family, a cozy gathering place of eating and drinking among close kin.

The Hall was used for gatherings that were more formal with larger numbers of people, and held its own special memories and tales, but for her, the Main room was were this house was made a home.

Haleth remained for a while, enjoying the memories of her family life and pushing any thought of Orcs and responsibility out of her mind before she let the fire turn to throbbing coals that glowed with orange and red heat.

When Haleth knocked once and then entered the homestead of her brother's family, she was immediately thrown off balance by a tackle from her boisterous nephew, Haldan. Jorhild beamed with emotion at her ecstatic son as she put her hands on her hips and motioned the two into their Long Hall where many of the herdsmen and fieldworkers sat in companionable chatter over tasty food and frothy ale brewed freshly from Jorhild's large, metal cauldron.

Wearing brown trousers and a tunic, Haleth fit well into the scene of casual, working clothes and discussion taking place amongst the workers, who greeted her with embraces and excited words of welcome.

After the chatter of conversation died down and supper had ended, the drink continued to flow as Haleth stood and gained the attention of the group before her.

"We pack tonight and leave at first light of tomorrow's dawn for Ascar and Gelion, which most of you must have already gathered from rumor," she said distinctly over the gathered crowd of farm-hands and milkmaids. "Messengers were dispatched earlier on this day and those from the outer areas will arrive by the morn. I have sent Beinir ahead with most of the men able to bear arms and craft structures. By the time they have basic knowledge and the foundation, they may require more assistance with their labor, which I know you all will be more than glad to lend in our defense. When you gather your belongings tonight, take less than you would like and only what is necessary, for we must make as much haste as young children will allow," she continued, winking at Haldan, who was staying awake way past his normal bedtime.

The later of her statement gained her a scowl from her normally playful nephew, even with her attempt to consider his reaction. With that said, Haleth raised her hands and repeated the ancient words of the basic benediction required from a godi's daughter and soon the crowd began to dissipate and depart.

_If there is any voice left willing to hear a command from one soiled with unworthiness for a petition of blessing, gods, let it be granted unto these common, peace-loving folk_; _if it be your will_, Haleth pleaded silently after Jorhild buoyantly shut the door on the last women to exit the dwelling.

Haleth slept fitfully after returning home, and in the early morning hours where no hint of sunrise threatened the sky, rose from slumber and sought the temple that her father was responsible, as a godi, for maintaining.

Before leaving her home, she gathered various foods from the storage pantry that had been steadily harvested over the course of the summer, based on their ripeness in season. She then added a jar of fruit wine to her goods and continued to the Entrance Hall.

Turning left after padding along the walkway, Haleth reached down and grabbed the woodcutting ax without breaking her stride as she made her way towards the animal shelter.

Tying a thick rope around the neck of a young lamb that had been born earlier that previous spring, she continued afoot towards the temple made of stone walls that encompassed the entire sanctuary of worship. The high temple was a roofless wonder to those who did not always participate in the sacrifices of the priests and priestesses of the village.

After cleansing herself in the holy spring bath waters of the temple, Haleth approached the stone alter, naked, and spoke resolutely, "Naïveté in the name of forgiveness, I beseech thee, Mother Freya."

With that said she knocked out the lamb with the head of her ax and then lifted it up onto the high altar. Using twigs and straw from a tinderbox a distance away from the altar, she kindled a fire. As dark gray smoke began to billow from the pit under the alter, she moved her hands over the lamb and chanted words known only be the brethren who served the gods for the acceptance of the innocent sacrifice made in their honor and to beg formal and proper forgiveness for her violation of sacred laws.

That done, she numbed her body to all external feeling and meditated on her wrongdoing and continued to beg forgiveness, acknowledging in her mind that a penance would be forthcoming and that forgiveness did not mean exoneration.

Yet, if the goddess accepted her petition, she could begin the long road for full pardon of her selfishness. As the lamb caught fire and began to burn, Haleth kneeled silently, closing her eyes in concentration, drawing a clean palate to her thought.

After the ceremonial rite had been concluded, she rose and said, "Forgive me, my Mother Freya, Goddess of all that is fertile and the One who delivers the bounty of sustenance to we mortals who are bound to Midgard."

As Haleth donned her ceremonial gown of green and gold and then made her way to the outer circle of stone as a hint of pastel light began to shoot muted rays through the darkness. She marveled at the sheer beauty of it, feeling bonded with closeness to her goddess and blessed Freya for such a cleansing, immediate sign.

Yet, that was only the beginning of Freya's merciful act of forgiveness for as the morning's temperature slammed into the leftover chill of night, a fog appeared around her, hours away from being burned into disintegration by the rays of a hot sun. Haleth blinked her eyes, as a tall form, shrouded in a dark cloak stepped out of the fog and seemed to float towards her.

"My lord," Haleth gasped with open-mouthed wonderment, marveling at the impromptu display of what seemed to be the flesh and blood of a living being, a living replica of Bryeth. The first sentiment that came to her forethought after seeing his form appear was _prudent restraint_. She must not let herself be compelled to voicing her curiosity after her recent good fortune at having ultimately received Freya's gracious blessing.

Haleth yearned with every fiber in her being to reach out her hand and touch his form to see if it was the flesh of a berserk, but she could not command any part of her body into action. He now stood nose-to-nose with her, and lifted one of her hands to his chest, where his heart would have been had he been a living man, alas, there was no beat and Haleth felt her blood run cold and her stomach lurch in shock.

Bryeth tried to resist outright laughter and hide an amused grin that was at her expense and threatened to creep across his handsome face, as his eyes teasingly stroked her face. "You have been pardoned, and even rewarded, my lady."

Haleth registered herself gasping, desperately sucking at the air around them as if hearing and viewing herself as a foreign observer.

"I have waited so long to touch you, my love," he whispered breathlessly into the new dawning of the sunrise that was making its brighter presence known on the horizon, and filling the temple with flickers of shadow.

Bryeth raised her once pliant hand, arid from the brutal elements of the land and lack of time to administer the herbal lotions she normally utilized. He held her palm to his cheek as he closed his eyes as her flesh touched his and after a few moments, he lightly kissed her hand, and let it drop back down to the side of her body.

Chuckling affably, he said, "You have no words for me, after all this?"

Haleth's mouth opened, but yet again, her mind had lost dominion of her body and all of its function.

Bryeth's laughed turned into hearty tirade of mirth as he placed both hands on the side of her face and drew her lips to his, gently probing and nibbling at first and then assaulting her mouth with an exploration of a primal craving left unchecked of restraint.

After a moment, the numbness was gone and Haleth's tongue rose to the occasion and battled inside the moist confines of their mouths.

Reluctantly, Bryeth eased his backward, looking intently in her eyes as tears silently fell down Haleth's cheeks, wetting Bryeth's hands as she struggled, her breathing coming in rasping and choked breaths.

He pulled her to his chest, holding her in a protective, firm embrace as her suddenly leaden weight brought Bryeth to the realization that her knees had given way.

"Draw upon all your strength up, my eternally beloved. You flattering adornment to me is well received, but you have a laborious undertaking ahead of you and your people will need your might, before all this business is accomplished," he murmured as he reluctantly pulled away from her.

She stood lofty and more upright, the building silence enveloping them, her chin pulled up with dignified grace at a somewhat eloquent angle.

"You are the fiber of my heart and we are predestined to unite once again on this threshold between your world and the next, love of my soul," he said and returned into the obscurity of mist.

Just as suddenly, Haleth gapped at him with astonishment for a moment before inhaling a deep breath through her nostrils as she ceremoniously straightened her tunic and absently patted the wisps of hair that had escaped her sleep-ridden, tied-back hair.

After leaving the temple she went back home and broke her fast, contemplating the events that had taken place at the temple as she began to realize the comforting humor and kindness of her encounter with Bryeth before she departed to meet all those who would be trusted into her care for the journey to Ascar and Gelion.

Haleth was anxious to get some distance between herself and the Village of Haldad and vowed to supply any helpful aid that she could manage, even if it meant nightly scout patrol with Lord Tunni himself.

* * *

Story Notation: 

The following information may be worth noting to some of you. Trolls, as referred to in the sagas, were in essence evil nature spirits, likened to "large dark elves." For the purposes of the Haladin culture in this story, they could be thought of as "Orc-like," I believe, which makes Beinir's gift to Haleth fitting, especially after the death of Bryeth.

The animal represented in the token given to Haleth by Beinir is symbolic of her guardian or nature spirit, the (think fierce mother) bear, which they believed to her protector who she would sometimes make sacrifices to in the course of things. Simply stated, this is meant as a token of protection for Haleth. It also ties in nicely with her nickname, little bear. She is the little bear (no matter how old she may get) of the mother "guardian spirit" bear.

The people in the Sagas seemed to hold with a pagan belief, before Christianity took a firm hold, that ghosts or spirits were tangible, meaning they could do things like battle with opponents which is closely related to the belief they held of burying their dead with things such as weapons and other essential possessions. This is why Haleth does not directly inherit her mother's symbolic dagger, but Beinir instead creates one for her as a gift, that is similar to her mother's dagger.

Shape-shifters were thought to stem from the berserks and were said to change their shape to, most commonly, bears or wolves during the night or times of stress. Some were even said to leave their bodies during sleep. I find it interesting to compare Beorn's character and mannerisms in "The Hobbit" to this belief, and I would wager the Professor must have as well. This is another supportive argument, to me, of the chosen animal to be Haleth's guardian spirit. It does not seem too far out in left field if you compare it to Beorn.

Beinir the Strong is a character likeness from "The Sagas of the Icelanders," who was said to have been a carpenter and servant of Halldor from "The Saga of the People of Laxardal." The Beinir in this tale is someone who will do whatever his skills can make good use of to assist in the continued operations of the community. If the "house-building" business is a bit slow at the time, as a smith, he has ample time to create horseshoes and other tools necessary for use in the village. Furthermore, I think anyone who loves their craft and has a natural gift for something, generally will not allow it to sit dormant, thus, Beinir continues with small projects in his free time, perhaps while sitting in front of his fire in the evening after a hard day's work in his shop.

Well, enough on Beinir, but only because he is not the person who stars in this tale. ;-)

In addition, Haleth uses Midgard because she is quoted as addressing Freya. Normally, I try to use Middle-earth in consistency with Tolkien's book except for in the first few chapters where we were learning more about the unique culture of the Haladin. A reminder, just in case, Middle-earth is the literal translation of Midgard. :-D

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Author's Notation: 

My sincerest thanks to those of you who are leaving encouraging reviews and equally supportive e-mail correspondence related to this tale, along with other random and unrelated musings. The last two chapters were a bit challenging and difficult to write, so I am especially grateful for the comments that have mentioned how refreshing or unique this story is to them. It was my hope that at least one other person out in the wide world would see the uniqueness of these rarely mentioned Folk, though I wasn't, and at times still am, uncertain if I can do them the justice they deserve: Enter Norse and Icelandic Eddas, Sagas, History and Myth (Not to mention a few twists and interpretations from myself, of course). ;-)

As always, kindest regards, and enjoy the trip into this world of myth and fantasy. The ride is about halfway complete.

In addition, my special thanks to Lasse-Lanta1 for her references on the differences and storage methods of mead, beer, types of wine, and ale relating to the Viking era along with the thought-provoking chats from common subject matter to that of deeper meaning. Your help was much appreciated and you will have to e-mail me if I have mis-stated anything based on the references in this chapter, so that I can correct it.

This was probably the longest chapter I have written so far, and I have spell checked it, etc., to the best of my ability, but I fear I may have missed a few things in the mix, as I have noticed after re-reading the earlier chapters - there are a few typos in there, indeed!

**TO ME** (myself and I - LOL!) : - D **_Since I cannot e-mail you..._**This chapter (Chapter VI) was written and posted in a timely manner (thanks to you) after I read your review - it really spurred me on to get over that dreaded "halfway" hump - thanks for the kind and encouraging words!

With my kindest regards,

Archaic Scribe

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Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

All the original characters and invented towns, places or practices throughout this whole story, however, belong to me, for better or for worse.

This is produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	7. VII THE ASSEMBLAGE OF THE HALADIN

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

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_Chapter VII_  
**THE ASSEMBLAGE OF THE HALADIN**

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The time Haleth made to Mulco was not as swift as she would have preferred, but it was as slow as she anticipated given the crew she was leading and the terrain they had to hurdle along the way. 

As the mid-size group of women and children that made up the tribes reached the final summit of the hilly terrain, the thatched roofs of the consolidated buildings of Mulco came into view, small specs upon a vast horizon. It would now only be a short time before they reached the trading center, where they would find only a few men of the tribal peoples remained, along with masses of women and children much like themselves.

As Haleth expected, the city was more reflective of a ghost town, the daytime empty of the normal bustle and chatter of bartering vendors and customers. Knowing her group needed a good amount of proper refreshment and rest, Haleth opted to stay at Mulco, making sure the group was settled in for the night.

Before the sun crested over the horizon the next morning, Haleth left Jorhild in command of the group of women and children, swiftly riding the short distance to where the stockade was being constructed between the Rivers Ascar and Gelion. Using the two rivers as a natural boundary, all that remained was for the laboring men to manufacture a sturdy wall joining the two, so that the area, which remained in-between, could be their stronghold.

Haleth could see well from a distance that the laborers were making considerable progress on the structure and that things may soon be complete, if all continued to go well. This she could surmise with all plausibility at a deliberate and calculated glance, even before she sought her father among the men.

"Ah! You have arrived!" Haldad said pleasantly, seeming to materialize without warning out of thin air, arms outstretched and held out in welcome to assist her in a dismount from her horse.

"But where are the rest of the people?" He asked, catching her as she slide down from the horse's back where he enfolded her into a warm embrace and affable kiss on the cheek before her feet hit the solid foundation of the earth.

"They remain at Mulco, for I thought it best to give them solid refreshment before continuing and I did not know if you were prepared to receive such a large group yet," Haleth replied, her tone resonance clear as if giving a factual report to an assembly.

Haldad laughed heartily in spite of the formal mannerisms of his daughter that he held so dear to the nucleus of his soul and jovially clapped her on the back. Haleth stumbled a fraction from where she originally stood, under the exuberant force of her father's affectionate and ample, thumping palms.

"Well done, my daughter. You have the effective discretion and hardy substance of a natural leader," he said, winking at her before he twisted his torso to gain a panoramic view of the edifice he coordinated, his pride brimming at the fine workmanship done over such a limited amount of time.

"You did notably well, Haleth, dispatching Beinir ahead of your group of women and children to us with the utmost haste. The progress you view before you would not have been possible were it not for his crafty hands and gifted eye for detail and vision," Haldad mused with discretion in a barely audible mumble.

"Stay in Mulco one more night and then bring them at the first light of daybreak tomorrow and be adequately prepared to make camp for a day or two outside the barricade. By then," he said beginning to be lost in his own thought, "We should be in readiness to establish the entire amount of people into the haven against the Orcs."

"Now," Haldad said merrily as his thoughts drifted from methodological organization of logistics to genuine contentment, "How fares my grandson and his mother?"

Haleth grinned, her expression undiminished and alight with cheerfulness, her thoughts a great distance from deliberations of war and death as she responded to her father's query, "Haldan is well as is Jorhild, who is in command of the group at Mulco."

Her father nodded his approval and regarded her with level eyes, sincere pools that looked like a lush gray smoke twisting upwards from a central furnace of endless heat, "Another daughter I am blessed with, as if she too could be directly from our very own bloodline."

"Aye, Jorhild!" Haleth nodded with a wide smile, letting her thoughts reflect on Jorhild, who had become a foundational part of their small, immediate family, but more outspoken than any of Haldad's children, and for this trait, they adored and relished her every word.

"I dare not delay, most respectful Godi," Haleth suddenly insisted with an easy, informal bow, "For I must find my brother and give him news of his wife and child."

"I bid you, do not forget mighty chieftain to all the folk, who from thence shall be known as the Haladin," he said smirking with mock haughtiness and amusement at his daughter's startled expression.

"You have been declared the chieftain of all the folk, say you, father!" Haleth exclaimed with astonishment and happiness, jumping into his embrace and clasping her arms around his great trunk of a neck as if she were about to sink into a formidable bog of swampy filth, oozing with bubbling gases from depths unknown. Haleth was ecstatic with glee that Lord Tunni had not been able to connive and establish an underhanded strategy to see his will done.

After a few moments, Haleth unfastened herself from the embrace as Haldad chuckled and bowed, extending his arm in a wide arch, indicating that she must continue onward and to his right side if she was to locate her brother.

It was not long ere she discovered her twin brother, whose from, lean and muscular like her own from hours of training, riding and farm work, was bent over the ground digging with a crudely shaped shovel, sweat running down his face and dripping from the end of his nose.

"You look to me, my dear brother, like the equal to a greased pig," Haleth said as she stood near Haldar, her arms crossed over her chest as she sternly looked down at him in a disapproving manner.

Haldar wiped his forehead on his tunic sleeve and then rubbed away the sweat that was trickling into his eyes and along his tanned face, mocking her expression and treating her with an actual snort as a reply before he spoke.

"It is a rare pleasure to see you too, my sister," Haldar said, grinning with disdain at Haleth, as he narrowed his eyes, every word marinated in irritated sarcasm. "You have all the refinement and personality of an ass, Haleth - would that you had been born my brother, so that you could share the joys of such labors."

His trifling rebuke sent Haleth into an indulging chortle, as Haldar came around the hole to stand close to her, removing his sweat-drenched shirt she replied, "I am what he gods will me to be, blessed be Freya!"

Haldar nodded his head and called a truce to their feigned battle, as he smiled widely, a spark of mirth in his eyes and embraced her with a quick, lightening like grip before she had a chance to move away from him.

"Tell me, sister, how you like this flowery stench," He said, barely getting the words out amongst a burst of laughter as she tried to wriggle away out of his firm grasp, finally squirming out of his reach and then scrunching her nose up in disgust.

"Boar," she said casually as she continued, "Jorhild is in Mulco and Haldan with her."

"How fair my bold flame of beauty and unruly son," Haldar asked with clear devotion and good nature in his tone, which earned him a look of uncensored endearment from Haleth. Though Haldar was her twin brother, she also had a strong bond to his wife, Jorhild, that only the relationship of female sisterhood could cement.

"They flourish, much like your farming estate, thanks to Jorhild," she replied without any noticeable pause after his slightly melodramatic thespian show of theatrics. "And how do things fare among the tribes at this time?" Haleth asked, motioning to the men who persistently continued to work on the barrier, and whose skins were tinted pink from their unaccustomed and prolonged exposure to the sun while Haldar rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation.

Catching his expression in her peripheral vision, Haleth ignored him and continued to look at the men, her gaze sweeping amongst the workers whose long, brown locks matched their own, many of them their brethren, as she then began to pick out the men whose skins shown like shiny bronze coins, chiseled muscles glistening, welcoming and soaking in the brutal rays of the sun.

"Well, tomorrow things should be brighter for you," Haleth continued and then turned to Haldad, "For your wife and child shall be making camp along with the others near here until you are finished and things are ready to fortify."

This statement brought a genuine, refreshing smile to Haldar's appearance and his whole countenance lit up considerably as he began to wipe the sweat from his chest and armpits with his garment before he put it back on to protect his pallid, hairless-looking skin from the hot sun.

"_That_," he replied as he looked kindly at his sister through a beaming grin which spread across his entire face, "Is something I shall look forward to with much anticipation!"

Haleth returned his smile and abruptly zoned in on the subject she had been waiting to know more about, asking in a low, conspicuous voice, "Tell me more details of the Oath-swearing?"

Haldar paused for a moment and sat down as Haleth followed his lead and sat next to him on the unearthed turf he had been piling next to his hole, "What would you say if I told you Lord Tunni now rules all these folk?" Haldar asked, swinging his arms wide to encompass the air and those people all around them who worked robust fervor at their tasks.

Haleth's eyes blazed for a moment before she gave it more impartial thought and replied, "Godi Haldad would not be in such a state of good humor if Lord Tunni were to rule the Folk and besides, my dear brother, I have already spoken with father and know the news, but what I really desire to know is how this thing happened without Tunni's interference."

Haldar smirked with affection at the keen and direct candor of her statement, giving up the failed ruse he had attempted and restated the information already known to both, "Aye, sister, we are son and daughter of the Godi who now rules all the Folk that willed to join under the name we have always been known by during this time allotted to us on Midgard. We are all, now, Haladin."

Haleth's face turned to a crimson hue of dark pink as she gasped sharply without meaning to be heard, and said with disbelieving skepticism, "_All_ the Folk are now _truly _Haladin?"

"Aye, even our esteemed and beloved, hospitable Lord Tunni," Haldar stated with the hint of unbridled hostility, heedless to the vicious grin playing at the corners of his parched, cracked lips.

"_Lord Tunni_," Haleth said with utter incredulity, her voice rising with inflected excitement as she looked intently into a reflection of what looked like cold steel in Haldar's eyes. Haleth struggled as her mind raced and her blood pulsated and pounded at the restraints of her flesh as she gathered her words and willed them to form her next question, "He swore this oath with no debate?"

"He swore allegiance reluctantly to the chieftain chosen by the majority after much debate, and only after it was sworn in public that he would be the next leader in turn, should anything go awry with Haldad. Lord Tunni's statement held some sway over the other godis and thingmen because he brings great military force to our defense, but this you know."

Haleth raised both eyebrows, her forehead visibly wrinkling, and grimaced as her thoughts vocalized themselves into a dangerous whisper to her brother, Haldar, "I do not like the sound of his conditions."

Her brother nodded sullenly with understanding and agreed, uttering only one prophetic word, "Aye."

* * *

By mid-morning the following day, Haleth's group of women and children came upon the encampment area with wonder and awe at what met their eyes. The stockade loomed like a towering bastion, a clear impediment to any onslaught of enemies, where there could be no doubt of its worth of protection to its inhabitants. It was generally assumed among many of the Haladin that all their homes were in grave peril of being destroyed, in all likelihood, but the wall before them promised safety of life. Homesteads could be rebuilt, but life as they knew it could not be so easily replaced, or most readily accepted by most, even in such a belief system in their culture. Many of the Haladin had freed their animals, though it meant that they would have to go without sustenance like eggs and meat for a long while, but it was a better choice than having them slaughtered by the flesh-consuming Orcs that rained down upon their homes. 

The group made a considerably pleasing amount of travel time, in Haleth's reckoning even with the sun already beating down upon them with scorching heat with another rare, above average temperature day for this time of year. It was surprisingly humid with little wind to ease a cooling hand to the heat as the men continued to work, with renewed fervor and excitement after news spread yesterday of the coming of their families and loved ones.

The bold, thundering rush of the rapids of Gelion and the soft flow of the steady stream from Ascar could be heard through the rock and wood of the stockade wall, which had grown considerably since yesterday when Haleth had viewed it. They would begin to settle in there by the next day, she thought, after gathering more food the next morning - this day and night would be for celebration and little work.

The women had just missed the men, who had just gone back to work on the structure and would not see them until dusk, when they took their final break from their massive task of work on the wall.

Haleth began to merge the two camps and sent the women and their families to find the tents of their spouses or loved ones while Jorhild began to manage an army of widows and spinsters to cooking the mid-day meal for their own group.

As Jorhild managed this large chore, Haldan's steps wondered from the cooking fires and shadowed his aunt Haleth, conniving with resolution for a way to see his father earlier, rather than later.

Haleth made her way towards her father, desiring to have news of when they could move the entire population behind the safe walls. She had yet to determine the amount of gear they would unpack, and knowing the reality of how the structure was progressing would aide in the direction she would give the other women. Though Haleth had her own assumptions about when they could move behind the wall, she would need to consult her father, who was not only her Godi, but also now the sovereign ruler of all the peoples.

"Do you consider it fair that you should see your father before your mother has such an opportunity, Haldan?" Haleth said without turning, acknowledging his proximity, which Haldan thought he had cleverly disguised with soft footsteps and practiced movements of furtive stealth.

"You saw father yesterday and are going to see him again now," Haldan replied saucily, but with the expert logic and candor of an average child his own age. To others, this statement would have been considered flippant, but to Haleth, it was a normal and acceptable question, thought she stretched her instincts to put on a respectable show of disapproval. Haleth surpressed an urge to smile and nod in agreement with his reasoning and tenacity, trying not to laugh at a debate that would never arise disputing who gave him the gift of birth. _Such a flawless example of the unfairness life can offer even in simple matters_, Haleth thought with disheartened regret: Touché.

Still standing yards away from the structure, Haleth halted her step and turned to rest her eyes upon the camp, seeing many of the women and children straining to pick out their loved ones as they ate and set-up camp. She was torn between the ideals of being impartial and fair, and granting her only nephew whatever was in her power.

"Return to your mother, child, for I seek your grandfather and only go on business," she finally said, regret bursting in her heart as she tried to inflect firmness into her tone and disguise the weakness of her statement.

Haldan looked at her, his eyes widening at the prospect of seeing both Haldad and Haldar at once, before a small pout began to form as he searched her eyes, sensing her insincerity.

"But..." he began to stammer hesitantly before Haleth fixed upon him a stern look of steadfast coercion from which he turned and slumped back towards the cooking fire and his mother's skirt.

_Was showing favoritism to Haldan worth the sad feeling in her heart_, Haleth wondered as she shook her head and began to work past the walls, calling blessings and greetings to those who were finishing the small touches that were necessary to the outside of the structure. _Her father must be working inside the structure today_, she thought as she began to turn the corner down at the far end of the wall where the River Gelion raged against the steeply banked shoreline.

Distracted and gazing up the towering wall, Haleth rammed into an unyielding, solid body as she turned the corner before the bank of the river. A familiar, unwelcome hold immediately steadied her as her steps wavered in the middle of an interrupted flow, and uneven earth.

"Careful, my lady," a deep, tenor voice crooned softly as Haleth felt her cheek rest against patches of rough skin barred and unhidden behind the intimate stubble of facial hair. "You could be lost to us if you do not give more attention to your step near this deadly bank," Lord Tunni said, motioning to the steep slope leading to the jagged rocks pointed out of the river.

Shocked and displeased with the situation, Haleth struggled out of his grip, which he held her in purposely for a brief moment longer than necessary, mentally implying upon her that her strength was no match for him.

Haleth glared at him with venomous anger and stood still, knowing she could not pass him until he moved, and resolutely refusing to speak, vainly choosing to wait until he moved. At her obvious exhibition of determined resistance, Lord Tunni donned a grim smile and crossed his bulky arms over his wide chest.

After what seemed like boundless moments of time vanishing into the stanch heat of the day, Haleth's hostility boiled over, getting the better of her patience as she hissed, "_Move!_"

Tunni only smiled more pleasantly, scrutinizing and probing what thoughts she must be having at her own lack of control, and enjoying her powerlessness under his authority.

"Hail, Tunni," came a commanding voice, crashing like thunder from behind them, as the confident look of victory instantly disappeared from his face, his bronze features turning an ashen white.

Haleth smiled triumphantly as she turned to Lord Tunni as she passed, noting that he seemed to have a visibly difficult time swallowing as he turned and stepped aside for Haleth to get around him.

_Ah - a voice of salvation, to be sure, _Haleth thought with relief as she bowed formally to her father, who awaited her on the other side as Tunni followed her, bowing formally to Haldad.

"I was just seeking to speak with you, Chief Haldad," Tunni said, attempting to hinder the tenseness he felt surrounding him, threatening to choke the lie he had shamelessly uttered.

Haldad tersely gave him a quick nod and narrowed his eyes dangerously, "Well, Lord Tunni, tell me why you choose a path that is opposite of my company?"

There was a long, uncomfortable pause as Tunni spoke, "I must have overlooked you inside, and thought you must have gone outside to do some final checking on the finishing touches outside."

They all knew he lied, but in the spirit of union, Haldad put his bubbling rage aside, determining to deal with Lord Tunni after the threat of Orcs had safely passed them. The Althing council was approaching this next summer and as the supreme ruling chieftain of the Haladin, he determined to strictly adhere to the laws of for disagreements their ancestors had created and observed since before passing over the Ered Luin. Tunni's time of reckoning would come, publicly and unopposed.

"What is it, then?" Haldad said regally, looking at Tunni with malevolent eyes, which looked like ashen charcoal, flecked with bursting slivers of blue flame, unabashedly and intentionally unmasking his disdain for this arrogant and bothersome under-lord.

Tunni seemed to flinch noticeably, but in a quick flash, before meeting Haldad's gaze with unwavering hostility, he responded in his turn to participate in the volley of words with the ruling lord, "As you know, I sent scouts to track the enemy's progress along the Dwarf-road." Scathingly, he continued, "They have failed to return and I fear they have been lost."

"Dispatch more and without any such delay!" Haldad said condescendingly to Lord Tunni, focusing more of his unhindered wrath upon him by retaining his glare, unspoken warning communicated and understood between the two men.

Checking his wrath, Haldad wondered why Tunni had not sent more earlier, but did not trust his temperament at the moment, and walked away, his hand under Haleth's arm as he lead her from Lord Tunni.

After walking along half of the finished wall, Haldad spoke softly, "What is it between you and he?"

Haleth's heart raced as blotchy patches of red appeared on her face and neck, her body temperature rising in the already blistering heat of the afternoon. Quickly, and self-consciously, she turned to look away from her father at the men who all seemed to gather and work industriously in one area of the structure.

"He is an ill-bred swine," Haleth replied, trusting herself to say nothing more and reluctant to lie to her father, and equally as reluctant to share the whole truth that would complete the story which would cause certain upheaval in a none too timely manner. No, this was not he time or place to tell all that had happened and add to their intense animosity and situation that may have already come to blows. War would soon be upon them and an attack was impending, as were the countless deaths that would result from battle, Haleth thought, looking around the area inside the fortress.

Haldad pursed his lips and opened his mouth to speak, but decided against pursuing the topic as they neared the group of workers who all stood in a mass around a figure near the wall.

"What is this?" Haleth said, looking suddenly at her father with concern as they neared the opposite end of the wall, approaching the intersection of the majestic River Gelion and the steady-flowing Ascar.

Haldad did not make any attempt at a reply, looking puzzled as he instead lead Haleth through the crowd which parted from their path, after realizing who was among them as they came upon Beinir, who was standing in the front of the crowd.

Beinir stood, a strapping, thick-bodied powerhouse, chest-high to Haldad with his hands on his hips, a telling grimace across his frustrated appearance.

"What is all this, Beinir?" Haldad said with deep concern.

"We are out of construction materials and this breach between the bank and the wall is too large to withstand an attack," Beinir said, shaking his head with such dire exertion that his jowls trembled, the strain of his words sounding harsh to any who had delicate ears. "If materials and time were endless, we should have a wall along this River Gelion too."

Haldad's eyebrows furrowed deeply into her forehead and his jaw became a tight set of determination.

"Well then, we must take wood and rock from wherever we can find it," he said, turning to address the mass of people behind him before when he was talking with Beinir. "We will seek for the waters of the river for heavy stone and every able men of strength shall move it up around the bank, to level ground and then roll it over to this place. I will be clear so there is no misunderstanding in what I say to you all: I do not want even one of you to risk pushing the rocks directly up this perilous bank. Some of you shall go with Haldar, who will take a group of you to excavate deep holes where we will set spikes made from the tent poles in the encampment."

"Go!" he commanded with the undisputed air of rule as the crowd dispersed and he turned to Haleth, "Bring what wood you can to this place and call upon the woman you must to bring it, the insult to custom be done away with this day! You must bring our small group of warrior women and strong farm maids to this task - we need what might we possess in our ranks, even if it is from women - and set someone in Jorhild's stead to take charge of the camp for you. Time is short."

Exasperated and regretful at having to share the secret society many of the neighboring tribes thought dead after his wife's death, Haldad took a deep, cleansing breath and blessed Haleth as she quickly sprinted along the wall back to camp to carry-out the High Chieftain's command. Then Haldad looked skyward into the branding light of the sun, praying to his wife's patron goddess, Freya, to lend all the strength she would allow to the women set upon this task and for the future battle with the Orcs.

* * *

Author's Note: 

Thanks to all you anonymous folks who are leaving reviews - I sincerely appreciate the time you have taken to read this story and the encouraging words of inspiration you share in your comments! I am thrilled that you are enjoying this story and that you really seem to appreciate all the elements that are melding together.

* * *

Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	8. VIII THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

* * *

_Chapter VIII_  
**THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM**

* * *

Thin, blue-gray clouds moved across the sky as the Haladin completed their task and the temperature began to cool considerably, a great refreshment to the men and women who worked relentlessly on their tasks to fortify the stockade wall to the best of their ability. Small drops of rain began to plummet to the ground; the dry earth heartily soaking in the wetness that brought a healthy glow. 

The rain was inspiring to the motley band of tribes who had bathed in the gentle waters of the Ascar before returning to camp as the sun began to set upon bluffs of grass that was beginning to brown for lack of moisture. Even as she took into account the lack of sunlight, it seemed to Haleth that the blades of grass were already beginning to turn back to their previously rich, dark greenish color.

As Haleth walked up the small embankment that reached the River Ascar, she began to slow her pace, taking in the fires that were lit with flames dancing towards the heavens as the steady rain continued to plunk delicately upon leaves and earth. The beauty before her was a pointed blessing and soothed the restless and weary feeling that had overcome her before her bath in the river. Still, a veil of uneasiness stirred around her, like an electromagnetic field of foreboding.

There were hurried embraces with loved ones and little talk as the crew set upon their meal, like greedy vultures diving into a last scrap of meat. As the people began to get their fill of food, someone had taken out crudely fashioned instruments and began to play the old songs, not lost, but long buried in the brief times of contented peace.

Although the thoughts of an impending Orc raid weighed heavily upon their minds, the time now was for festivity, to live as if this very day would be their last. They all knew some would die, but the realization that it would be someone dear to them was a buried thought, deeply hidden in the recesses of the mind and not worth acknowledgement at such a time as this.

The jovial songs rose loudly above the din of chattering and laughing men, women and children, as Haldad held up his hands and clapped loudly, beginning to dance a jig near the central bonfire, piled high with what wood remained after patching the hole in the corner of the wall and Gelion. Instantaneously, the folk around him joined in as he locked arms with the nearest women, an old farmwife whose dingy teeth shown prominatley in a huge grin near the flickering flames. Haldad laughed and swung her merrily around the circle that began to move around.

Haleth saw Haldar lift his son, Haldan high into the air, turning in small circles near the dancing as Jorhild looked on with an amused, but reserved grin playing on her features, the warmth that radiated in her eyes shown hotter than any flame from the fire before them. This genuine love that she witnessed emanating from the group was overpowering and Haleth suddenly felt as if tears would fill her eyes and roll down her freshly scrubbed cheeks at any moment. Then, shaking her head to dismiss the strong emotion, Haleth walked over to stand near Jorhild, between the fire pit and a large tent that had been erected behind her, now housing a majority of their food stores.

"He never was the best of dancers," Haleth commented casually, looking sidelong at her sister-in-law.

Jorhild released a hampered laugh, "And he still is not!"

Haleth joined in her laughter and after a long, but comfortable silence, spoke in as low a voice as she could muster that would be loud enough to be heard above the bedlam, but soft enough to discourage eager listeners to their private conversation.

"Has Haldar told you any thing of the Oath-swearing?"

To this Jorhild lifted her eyebrows in shock and looked anxiously around for eavesdroppers, "You speak of this so openly amongst people in public?"

Haleth shrugged, "Godi Haldad has said 'the insult to custom be done away with this day,' has he not?" As Jorhild opened her mouth to comment Haleth raised her hand in a gesture of silence, waving away her comment, "I did not mean it like all that - peace, my sister."

Jorhild, still nervous, but excited for the secretive news dropped her voice down an octave, "We have had little time to speak, as Haldan has been demanding every spare moment of his attentions, but pray, continue quickly before we are overheard."

The Jorhild's agitation was beginning influence on Haleth as she beckoned Jorhild to follow her through the deserted meadow were some of the tents had once stood. Both women distinctly realized the advantages and good fortune of their proximity to the city of Mulco, located so near their camp. Haleth had sent a resourceful group of trusted women to the city to bring supplies for new shelters to be built, and then transferred inside the fort when they moved. The women under Haleth's command had worked hard and fast, fabricating a large number of bigger tents that served their purposes for storage and common sleeping areas. Though many of the families had given up the privacy of their own quarters, they would not be left out to sleep under the rain, should it decide to pelt and drive down hard upon the land.

"Tunni set conditions before he agreed to swear the Oath to our father," Haleth began, looking indirectly, only moving her eyes to get a sidelong glance at Jorhild's reaction before she continued. "He demands to be in command of the Haladin if anything should happen to Haldad."

"That is an excessively high a price to afford such a barbarian," Jorhild commented with disdain chiming lucid in her rising voice. "Why should he dictate anything?"

Haleth knew Jorhild knew the answer to this and did not respond, awaiting Jorhild's self-contained calm that would come, which it always did, as the other women shook her head in agreement and said as if to herself, "Aye, it is his military might that we must have, but still, the cost is too great, in my own opinion."

Haleth did not agree or disagree, being torn between personal feeling and diplomacy, a trait her father exemplified to near perfection.

"Why do you not rage at this fool, Haleth," Jorhild said in a pliant, but insistent undertone, not pausing for an answer to her rhetorical question. "He was not far behind you earlier when we were amid the first to sup and I am witness something disturbing in your eyes and movements when he is near. Sister, should you not conceive in your most concealed and secret of hearts to draw out this venomous bane here and now and release this burden to one who would hold your secret beyond death?"

Shocked and completely surprised for a moment, Haleth did not reply and considered her response as she tried to determine if Jorhild spoke from sheer observation or from the gift of Sight, bestowed upon her and many others in her line by the Norns themselves.

_If she already knew all, why did she ask_, Haleth thought to herself, before closing off her most readable thought. Haleth sighed loudly, not wanting to taint her festive state-of-mind, but still yearning to share her long-buried trouble with another human being. _What better living being than my sister_, she thought with unanticipated amusement before her face became a thick disguise of shadow as she thoughtlessly quickened her pace.

Jorhild coordinated her long strides and then gently laid her hand upon Haleth's arm, saying, "You must stop running from this thing. Do not let hate and fury eat away the goodness of your core. Mother Freya will claim what revenge is due to her and exact what price she may. It is no choice meant for mortals."

As Jorhild drew up to a halt beside her, Haleth stopped and spoke dispassionately, "He would have claimed me for his own during the Spring Ritual in a frenzy of barbaric drunkenness. With not savior near the depths of the woods, I kicked his manhood and ran from the confrontation when what I should have done is stayed to finish him."

The ire that seethed, uncontrived and uninvited, into her last words surprised even her as Jorhild's gaze narrowed to smoldering eyes that could only be glimpsed through thin slits of luxurious eyelashes, had their been enough light given off by the fires that still smoked in the distance.

Haleth was suddenly afraid, but quickly surpressed it and continued, "You shall tell no one, especially Haldad, and your husband or I swear by Freya's wrath..."

"Shhh!" Jorhild replied covering her palm over Haleth's mouth, "_Peace_. Do not dare to speak such things, lest you have to uphold them!"

"No fear," Jorhild commanded gently, "I am sworn to hold your secret forever and the decision is yours to determine who to tell, but when this fight is over, why do you not seek the proper channels of law to see that Tunni is stripped of his power and command?"

"You know not what you ask of me, now that I have spoken this memory aloud, Jorhild," Haleth replied and then turned and stalked back towards the fires where Lord Tunni moved to stand in her path, surrounded by his private entourage of women and his guards hovering nearby.

Haleth rolled her eyes at him and turned to go back towards where she had left Jorhild, too angry and confused by bubbling emotions to speak, and certainly not expecting Lord Tunni to follow her.

His guards in tow and his women left behind to simper in jealous chatter, Lord Tunni followed her into the dark shadows as sheets of rain poured down suddenly from the sky.

"Wait!" he commanded in a voice, tinged with an inferred threat of danger.

Haleth reeled about to confront him, the dagger given to her from Beinir drawn and tightly gripped in her hand as she paced roughly toward him in a challenging frenzy of resentment. Lord Tunni only smiled at her with irritated tolerance as if indulging a child, and held up a hand for his guards to depart.

"We both know you will not shed my blood under such circumstances," he said evenly.

"Perhaps not this night," she said gravely.

To this, Tunni only replied with a rolling laugh, and after finally catching his breath, he nodded and threw up his hands in false surrender, "Well, peace, for now then. I have only pursued you to ask the pleasure of a dance."

"A _dance_," Haleth replied incredulously. "Surely you jest? This is assuredly not the only reason you nag my footsteps and tarry too close to my presence."

"No, I ask in all sincerity, my lady Haleth, that you do me this very great honor," he said, bowing cordially, unexpectedly sincere in his request.

Haleth shook her head violently in disbelief. "Cease this false charade," she said aloud.

"A dance," he replied happily, ignoring her anger and doing a little jig before standing quietly before her once again, awaiting her answer.

Haleth began to laugh with authenticate humor at his massive warrior form dancing with such merry, careless abandon.

"Will you not go back to your beer and wenches - and leave me to my own devices?" she said after her laughter subsided, sheathing her dagger and starting to walk past him.

He promptly seized her arm as she attempted to step past him as he spun her violently, pulling her against his expansive chest. "I do not jest and your devices should be well aimed at me," he said before loosening his hold at the sight of Jorhild coming hurriedly up the path and then added sarcastically, "My honorable lady."

He turned and departed, Jorhild catching and holding his gaze, daggers flying between the two as Jorhild stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the back of Tunni and his guard as they departed.

"Let this battle be quick so that he may suffer," she said, murmuring an invocation for a curse at the hands of Freya and before she and Haleth continued up the path.

Arriving at the large bonfire, Jorhild's anger brimmed and Haleth removed to speak with some of the women who had been instrumental in successfully completing the day's task of hard labor.

"Many do not know this, and believe it a secret long-buried, but after this day, none can now debate our existence. Our time is lost this night, but tomorrow, we must gather for intensive training if we are not called upon to lend assistance in any last fortifications to the structure before we move in tomorrow," Haleth announced to the small group who nodded vigorously and smiled with triumph at her promise of training.

"I have yearned long for the feel of my own cherished blade in my hands, where I do not have to use it for slaughtering animals or cutting thick ropes during chores on our homestead," one of the women nearby proclaimed as the rest nodded in encouraging agreement.

Haleth nodded and spoke before leaving the elite group of women who had been put under her direction, "That is good for we ought to be prepared to do what must be done by virtue of our might that may well be needed before all is done in this Orc-battle."

As Haleth moved from the group of women and approached her father, Haldad embraced her and swept her up into a fanciful dance, the music resonating across the large meadow and throughout the endless chatter of the tribe.

Haldad stopped and walked with his daughter to a quieter area and spoke, "Tonight, Haldar and I will attend a midnight meeting where I will officially announce your role in all this as the leader and commander of all the women and children."

Haleth looked at him and gave him a silent nod, as he chuckled before continuing, "Though formal, it is important to do so. There are great changes that will benefit all the clans and this is a good opportunity to begin to plant the seeds. Though we have known for many years that women are to be respected and treated as equals, there are many tribes who do not accept such. This is the beginning of a slow, but necessary change. Some of them do not realize what talent and benefits they loose when overlooking or silencing their women."

"I must do as you will," Haleth replied, now grinning as she added, "Chieftain Haldad."

He fixed her with a stern look of reprove and then smiled widely as they returned to the fire, where Jorhild continued to look on at her husband and son, still dancing around the flames.

Haleth shook her head, and grinned as she approached her brother, "Surely, Haldan, you can spare a dance for your dear, old aunt?"

Haleth crouched on her knees and rested on the flat of her feet near the ground, meeting the level eyes of Haldan, who teetered on his decision, looking from his father and back to Haleth.

Then, sensing the child mentally slipping away, leaned forward and whispered in his ear in a conspiring tone, "I have a sweet chuck of your favorite treat in my tunic pocket - and it can be yours, for the price of a dance. Do we have a deal, young Master Haldan?"

Greed overtook the child, who never really stood a chance against a trick involving his favorite candy, as Haldan bowed to his father and then beckoned him down to his level as he whispered loudly, "Forgive me father, but I must honor this old spinster with a dance."

Haleth furrowed her eyebrows at him and then laughed heartily as she stood and said into her brother's ear, "Your wife is over there."

Haldar briskly whispered his thanks as he hurriedly made his way towards his wife, Jorhild, who eagerly joined in the gala of festive dancing around the fire.

Soon, the middle of the night came upon them as many of the tribes women and children began to clean and make preparations to sleep, while some of the younger children had already fallen into a heavy slumber as the dancing began.

Many of the men departed and went to the meeting grounds, where Haldad and his top leaders discussed the details of their defense and moving the women and children into the fort the next morning so that they might settle in before the Orcs came upon them.

"We have lingered overlong, my lord," Mulco began as the men stood in a circle. "We should remove to the fortress, such as it is, without delay!"

Haldad thought decisively for a prolonged moment, Mulco's pleading eyes invisible in the gloom of night and the tempest of the storm that rumbled in the distance.

"I think you may be right in your deliberation," Haldad replied in conclusion, as the reverberation of thunder was heard overhead.

"_Tonight!_" Tunni yelled. "You mean to remove tonight, in this rain, in this darkness where one can barely see the hand outstretched in front of him?"

"You," Haldad said resolutely, ignoring Tunni and turning a man who stood near Haldar and himself, "Send a messenger to Lady Haleth to see to these arrangements; then you must return at your earliest convenience - something strange charges the air all around and I fear it may be that the enemy will be upon us soon."

A solitary bolt of lightning crashed across the darkened heavens and Tunni's bitter wrathful face shown in an evil masterpiece in contorted shadows.

"Before you all leave, there is something you must know and embrace," Haldad said bluntly. "The Lady Haleth is in charge of _all_ the safety arrangements for the women, children and our provisions and her decisions are made with my blessing. After this night, she must be brought into our fold, custom or no, for we must all be informed of what is happening as it happens for she commands an elite group of women who have been trained in our tribes since the beginning of time. This we must do with acceptance and wisdom for future generations to follow."

"_What say you_, Godi Haldad? _A women_? We have no _time_ to move our camp and now you say we are to make council with a _woman_ - have you gone mad!" Tunni said loudly again with a harsher edge of contempt in his tone, moving towards Haldad as his guards stalked behind in his wake.

"Every warrior is on the brink of madness at times, my lord, Tunni and I fully agree," Haldad said haughtily, losing patience and ignoring his blunt insult as Lord Tunni addressed him simply as a godi, and not the supreme chieftain who now ruled all the people, "We have no time for such foolishness. We must move quickly - _and now_!"

The men stood looking at the two adversaries in shock, unable to digest the information that Haldad spoke while Tunni made his disruptive and edgy contention. They stood facing each other, nose to nose, the sight of their tempers raging to near one another, the other men grew extremely tense.

Haldad could feel Tunni's rank breath coming out in quick gasps towards his face as Haldar drew his sword, Tunni's guards mirroring his actions, and a whir of steel sounding in unison, instantaneously sliding from leather scabbards.

Haldad motioned for his son to sheath his weapon, "We have not time to spill blood among ourselves," as the sound of steel sliding out of leather scabbards resonated with a soft brush of friction.

"We do not have the luxury to spill blood among ourselves," _yet_ Haldad added angrily in his mind, "It is the enemy we must band together against. You have been nothing but contention since this first began, and it is time you obeyed the sacred oath you swore upon the Oath-stone, Lord Tunni, or suffer the curses of one who would think themselves above the gods."

This was a heavy-handed speech Haldad gave, and he fully knew the weight of what he was doing, in public, in front of peers: An oath that could not be forsaken upon the pain of death and no hope for any future chance in reincarnation to right his wrongs or war and feast in the halls of Valhalla.

Tunni growled loudly, a sound the roared dangerously from the depths of his harmful, destructive soul, heedless to those around him, his face taut and grim, his fists clenched into tight balls.

As he opened his mouth to speak as a sudden crash of thunder pierced the dismal nighttime air around them. Haldar's eyes grew large as realization dawned upon him like a sharp slap across his face: The Orcs were nearer than any of them had realized, their shadows growing more visible at the edge of the trees, yards away from where they stood.

"_Orcs_!" Haldar hissed, glued to his spot as the whole group of men turned towards the trees behind them, spotting the shine of Orc armor through the curtains of rain as another bold of electric white lightning lit up the sky.

Tunni turned quickly to one of his guards, "_Go!"_ He whispered with urgent abandon, but a powerful mastery of command, as his sentry scurried back to the camp to gather the rest of Lord Tunni's forces.

"They have not seen us yet, though I am assured they _heard_ us," Haldad said, looking with pointed abhorrence and loathing at Lord Tunni. "Scatter to the edges: Tunni to the left and I will go with Mulco's men to the right. Our only hope is in a small ambush to divert them long enough for Haleth to get the people to safety."

Tunni nodded quickly in agreement, all thought of his battle with Haldad forgotten and his adrenaline beating fiercely against his flesh, his mouth watering in ravenous hunger for battle.

* * *

Author's Note: 

This chapter was split. Originally, it was intended to be a part of the last chapter, "The Assemblage of the Haladin," but grew too long to be classified in such a way. Alas, because of situations like this, I am one chapter shy of being halfway done..._again_! This is the reason for the day difference in the postings of these two chapters as well as the slightly "shorter" length of this specific chapter. Can you believe my outline started out with 12 chapters and now sits at 17! Ugh! What a lesson for me.

Such is life. :-D

On a brighter note - the formatting for the chapter title information is absolutely and finally the way it is intended to be - YES! Glory be!

Again, thanks to those folks who are reviewing! I'm happy you are continuing to enjoy it.

* * *

Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	9. IX MINDLESS FURY

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

* * *

_Chapter IX_

**MINDLESS FURY**

* * *

The wind picked up and the rain seemed to grow more powerful as the enemy lumbered into the clearing with callus movements and guttural, sibilate whispers as beady black eyes searched the darkness of night for man-flesh. Orc heads with straight ebony locks retaining so much filth the rain had no hope of cleansing them free of their foul substances, swung from left to right, wondering where their objectives had disappeared. 

Many men of the Haladin, both seasoned and novice warrior alike, gasped for a moment as the Orcs neared their mark, the putrid smell and their large, thick forms almost underneath them. The limited visibility in the rain that now poured down upon them was a challenge, at best, but against a group of Orcs, it was not well-nigh perilous. All men among the Haladin saw this point with clarity, but many of their kin, be it parents, children or spouses needed what time they could grant them even if it meant the ultimate sacrifice.

Alas, to depart this life on Middle-earth with honor born in the glory of battle, was to be assured a trip to Valhalla should the Valkyries grant it.

Haldad's band of men stood at the ready behind a cluster of quacking aspen and oak, young elms and pine with slender trunks reaching skyward as the Orcs marched along the path that lead out at the edge of the clearing. Lord Tunni held his ground near the rear of this small Orc raiding party, awaiting Haldad's assault upon the front of the forces.

Haldad breathed deeply and exhaled in a long, slow burst of air as he quickly offered a quick petition for victory and protection to his shield-god, Frey, and the Allfather, Odin. It was time to declare their position and assert themselves into what would become a furious and unforgiving fray of combat.

A primal yell issued from the depths of Haldad's being as he lead the charge of his men against the foe, the Orcs growled in answer and began violent swings of both battle-ax and sword. Weapons clashed and rung in the air like a dark, deadly song, haunting the minds and hearts of those among the Haladin who had little experience with combat.

The faces of the peasant farmers were drawn taut, strained with fear and tension, as everything seemed to turn to fanatic chaos before their very eyes. The Orcs, wider and taller than the men of the Haladin, made large, sweeping thrusts with their swords at the helpless farmers who raised swords of crude iron in defense of the fatal blows.

Blood flowed ceaselessly as if it were a dense river of condemning ruin as Tunni's forces ran at full throttle behind the Orc party and began to hack their way through their ranks. Alas, even the immaculately trained and bloodthirsty forces of Lord Tunni were shown no adequate match for this impregnable enemy.

The broken and bleeding bodies of men lay trampled by careless Orc feet, as Haldad, meeting Tunni's eyes in a brief glance, agreed to pull back what men remained among the living of Midgard and fell back to the northern edge of the fortification. This, Haldad did with brave abandon while Tunni took a small group of his men and disappeared into the thick forest edges and back tracked their way to the camp where innocent and mostly defenseless women and children dwelled.

Almost all the women and children inside, Haleth began to gather what food she could as Tunni and his men came swiftly upon her and a small group of her warriors.

"Make haste to the stockade - this is no place for women," Tunni commanded with an expert air of authority as the rain beat down on them harder as long seconds continued to pass.

"This here is no time to challenge one another, my lord Tunni. Help us gather what little provisions we might before the enemy is upon us," she replied without pause as she hefted a large sack of food upon her shoulder and grabbed another with her hand and began to carry it quickly to the haven.

Turning fleetly to Lord Tunni, Haleth added, "We have only two wagons that are not even full of food - not near enough for our people to survive even a short siege."

Tunni's eyebrows became a furrowed line as he motioned for his men to help and he forcefully grabbed the sack Haleth had been dragging, "You are stubborn and needlessly put yourself in harm's way, my lady."

With that, Lord Tunni scowled and began to march ahead of her as Jorhild caught up to Haleth, walking beside her and swaying with the weight of a small container in her arms.

"The ignorant beast," Jorhild said with a twisted face distorting her fine features as they hastened to the Southwest end of the stockade as she continued, "As if we could not manage this ourselves."

Haleth nodded almost with dismissal and preparing to voice her own insult at Lord Tunni's comments before she suddenly startled with surprise at a loud noise that disrupted their conversation, coming around the bend from the North.

Dismal silhouettes could be seen against a black outline set before a horizon blurred by the relentless rain that would allow no more than barely minimal visibility. Haleth's breath caught as she stared in amazement at the large Orcs who fell upon them. Tunni, yards ahead, turned and dropped the sack he carried, swiftly drawing his sword as he ran to intercept them before they reached the caravan of women who were trying now to get food to the women and children who remained safe in the structure ahead of them.

The expertly crafted steel of Lord Tunni's magnificent ax crashed with dazzling force upon the round shield of an Orc whose teeth were bared, fangs glimmering in a brief flash of lightening.

Unleashing their shock and embracing the life or death situation close at hand, Haleth and Jorhild simultaneously dropped their cargo and drew forth their weapons. Jorhild steadily unsheathed a long steel sword, forged years ago that had belonged to her mother, the sturdy, unadorned hilt held fast in her both hands and pointed forward as she rushed ahead without hesitation.

Haleth held a dagger in one hand, hoping to rely upon her speed in hand-to-hand combat though she wondered at her decision as she neared the Orcs. Did she really desire to be close enough to the enemy where she could effectively use such a small weapon against their enormous battle-axes?

This is what the women of Haldad's settlement had trained for in the spare hours of peaceful days when their chores had been attended to and complete, she reminded herself with purposeful cause, but still their strength faltered for a moment, her cunning had not at any time been tested like this. _Mother_, Haleth prayed, _help me, guild me, strengthen my sudden weak heart_!

With a diminutive toss, she seized her dagger in her left hand and unsheathed her sword with the other hand, raising it so that it was in front of her and parallel with her shoulders. Her shield was not nearby, the same circumstances all the female warriors had been put into by their task of collecting food and coordinating its arrival along the trail that lead to the southwest end of the citadel. The practicality of keeping a shield at hand during such an assignment was futile, although now, they wished with earnest for any foresight that would have allowed them the wisdom to retain such a useful boon.

The masculine warriors beneath Lord Tunni's military command still held their own round shields, which looked to the women like a jealous gift to be coveted in the defense against the heavy Orc blows that were now reigning down upon the men. No, the women must rely on their own artifice and speed when they finally joined the battle with the men against the enemy, as they were most often told during training. There were few women who possessed the brute strength that could equal any man among the ranks.

Jorhild was already thrusting her sword into the side of a bumbling Orc she had caught unawares as Tunni grunted and yelled battle cries every time he swung his ax and parried an enemy blow with his shield.

Haleth was frozen, almost numb as she neared the group and the Orcs sniffed her fear and reluctance as if she had had a bleeding wound as two broke from the group and stalked towards her, leering and baring fangs which saliva seeped out over, hungering for her flesh.

_Freya, goddess mother, I implore you with all that I am: Help me_, Haleth meant to whisper, though no sound of entreat issued aloud from her mouth. Intaking a deep gulp of oxygen and exhaling slowly through her nose, her eyes widened and welcomed the rain beating upon her exposed face as she readied her sword and knife.

"Come to me with what might you possess, then," she taunted with hesitant bravado to the creatures who ceaselessly neared her, slowly stalking towards her.

The two Orcs snarled with vicious abandon, a sound that made Haleth's blood run cold, as the creature's mouths moved in what could only be deemed as an insane, lustful smile, of one sort or another.

"A quick bite to eat before returning to the feast of flesh," one of the Orcs said, elbowing the other harshly in the side as they walked deliberately nearer and nearer while Haleth held firm to where she stood with shock and determination intermingling across her face.

"You have no one to help you now, human," the other spat malevolently with depraved glee, inhaling her scent as he began to lick his lips in anticipation.

"Has she not, you filth of the bogs," Tunni said, suddenly coming up behind them and decapitating one of the Orcs as a fountain of blood erupted from his neck before either could completely turn around.

Haleth stood, in more shock than ever as he parried with the other who turned to give Lord Tunni his full attention. Haleth moved quickly, sheathing her dagger and holding the hilt of her sword and with all her might, swung level behind the remaining Orc, sending his head lobbing through the air as his body suddenly dropped towards Lord Tunni, who quickly stepped to the side.

"Your death will be sure, should you hesitate again, my lady," Lord Tunni said, nodding to her as he returned to the fight, Haleth's footsteps slipping on the wet grass behind him to join the battle.

The small group of warriors put little dent in the ranks of the enemy and shortly following their brave fight, Tunni commanded them to all fall back as he and his men held the enemy for them to make a reasonable escape.

Huffing and puffing from exertion, Haleth and the women caught their breath as Lord Tunni and his men entered the structure and replaced the doors of stone and wood before the Orcs could come inside, having sent half of their party to draw most of the Orc raid away so that they had time to do this. The remained Orcs found themselves impaled on the spikes buried in holes around the entryway to the fortress.

The sacrifice of men Lord Tunni made with little regret, knowing they would never be able to enter the structure again, though he had wished it had been Mulco's or Haldad's men that he could send on that particular mission, rather than his own skilled warriors. Better to lose a plowman or herder rather than a warrior at this time, a thought he could not comprehend anyone disagreeing with given their current situation.

Haleth crossed the area quickly to find her father and Haldar before doing anything else. She found the two, smiling grimly at her, as Jorhild had already arrived and was tending a wound Haldar received to his arm, as her own leg bled, unnoticed until the material on her trouser leg became soaked through with a dark, almost black, red that shown in the few torchlights that had been established in the hurried escape from their temporary camp.

Haldar began to snarl at Jorhild for attending to his wounds before her own while Haleth stood motionless as a practiced hunter, watching with interest.

"It is nothing as bad as yours, husband, whose blood soaked through his sleeve long before I even drew such a wound," Jorhild scolded in retort to Haldar as he continued to grumble under her ministrations.

"Aye, woman, but will you never let another give you care," Haldar admonished loudly, jerking free from her gentle hands before he continued more quietly, regretting his temper, "You are in as much need of care as I am, but look here, I am well enough - let me care for your wound, my brave and savage lady-wife."

Haleth had almost went to snatch the herbs and bandages from a nearby shelter that had been stockpiled with healing supplies to tend to the wounded who had escaped the Orcs, but thought better of it. Neither wound looked grevious enough to warrant her intrusion, nor did she dare to put herself in the middle of a domestic battle, brother or not.

Haldad snorted in laughter, breaking the few moments of heated tension between the two and turned to go amongst the people and lend help where he could. Saying nothing, Haleth followed suit, walking in the opposite direction of her father, towards the two wagons of the few supplies that they had been able to save.

Soon the yells and threats of the Orcs died away as the rain began to cease into a soft patter of falling drops and slivers of murky light could be seen emerging from a sheet of think, flat gray clouds. Many of the women prepared boiling water taken from the river before the Orcs had come upon them and began to prepare food while others wailed in heart wrenching sobs, mourned the loss of husbands, brothers and sons.

"So much life forfeited," Haleth whispered to herself as she went to sit apart from the group and gather her thoughts and sort her feelings from the wee hours of the morning when they had been set upon by the ruthless slaughter of the Orc.

"Aye," Lord Tunni said, coming to stand behind her from what seemed like the mists that now rose form the earth, bringing with them a sudden coldness that contrasted the unseasonably warm weather that had graced them over the last few days.

Haleth looked upon him and met his eyes with sorrow, "I regret the loss of so many of your men, my lord, and the loss of the innocent who have only desired to live in simple peace."

For a brief moment, Tunni was about to unleash his rage at the loss of some of his most elite fighting men, but instead lost himself in her eyes, thinking of the hue the clouds shown behind her that matched the color of her eyes. If he had stayed the course of a priest, she would have more easily succumbed to his rule, but as warrior to warrior, she was no match to him even though he recognized her bravery after being initiated to her first battle. Her eyes were sad pools of depression and no warrior could afford such reflection. No, she was a woman for home and hearth, not for the unconscionable acts found on a battlefield. Yes, she had proved her worthiness as a warrior, as such as a mere woman could, he supposed with a puzzled frown, his thoughts moving deeper to a clear connection in his own realization.

Something foreign stirred powerfully in his midsection as he surpressed the urge to reach out to Haleth and enfold her in his embrace, to protect her from all manner of evil as he thought to himself with regretful amusement, _but, who can protect her from me_?

Haleth would fare well enough in battle now, her virgin initiation complete, for a women, but Lord Tunni had expected her to come upon it naturally, without help. How could he keep his thoughts turned to any of the battles, even with as much experience as he had, and worry about her security at the very same instant. No, the focus he would have to retain in the fervor of combat was something he dared not afford himself to part with, no matter how courageous this women was in battle.

Her weakness, as he determined it, made him love her even more and thus, her weakness is something he abhorred in himself, half resenting her for it and half endeared to her for it. _Ah, love_, he was musing to himself and then at that moment, seeing the sadness in her eyes, somewhere inside himself, he knew he loved her more than he wanted to possess her for the sake of challenge. He yearned to set her free, to forget her pale gray-blue eyes, to send from his memory the sincerity she had just shown him after so many harsh and unforgivable words of hatred and so many years of jealousy and loneliness.

Haleth watched his normally unfeeling blue eyes that were frequently unyielding or blazing with hatred and rage, warm to cobalt kindling, reminding her of the start of so many strong fires around the camp. There was some mysterious secret that lay hidden beneath his surface, something she yearned to glimpse, and there was something that was now pleasing and undeniably emotional about the way he looked upon her at his profoundly odd moment. There was no hard, steely determination in his eyes, but genuine sentiment that she found herself unable to comprehend. Perhaps, the only softness about him was in the way he must be mourning the men he had lost in this scrimmage. Haleth found herself amazed and almost comfortable with him.

Haleth leaned forward and lightly rested her hands on his forearms, leaning near to him in order to whisper in his ear, her lips brushing his earlobe as she said, "Thank you."

The kiss she left on his cheek sent Lord Tunni into speechless shock as he made no intelligible utterance in return, but instead grabbed both of her hands with his as she started to pull away.

"Thanks be to you," he uttered, gently cupping her face in his hands and looking with grave confusion and confusion into her eyes as he struggled for reason.

Alas, his experience with real women near his own class was little as he floundered at what to do next. Haleth's natural instinct told her to prepare for a kiss: a kiss, in fact, that never came as he abruptly turned and strode away from her, the sounds of soft rain pattering on various surfaces both man-made and natural.

Dawn came, but only continued to reveal itself through a translucent gray light of cloud cover as the many of the wounded slept and the Haladin who fought paced restlessly, unable and unseeking of any such slumber. Their blood still raced from the heat of battle and their minds were a jumble of thought, turning from their lack of food stores to the loss of so many people in such a short time.

"We must find a way to get more food for what we have now will be exhausted before the night comes upon us," Haleth said with exasperation as she sat down next to Haldad.

He ran his hands through his grizzled looking salt-and-pepper hair, suddenly looking worn and haggard, older than Haleth had ever recalled seeing him.

"Aye," he moaned grudgingly, "That we must, but how?"

Haleth replied with silence and they sat for a moment as Haldar neared them.

"It is good to see you full of life and spirit, Haleth," Haldar said kindly, though the weariness could be heard clearly in his voice.

"We must send a scout to see what has been done to our camp and to search for the best way to attain food," Haleth stated.

Haldad sighed, "If it were but that easy, my daughter. The Orcs would have pillaged our camp by now and either consumed or destroyed any living thing near that would be worth eating, I fear, from fruit to beast."

"What, then?" Haldar spoke quietly, unsure of what would become of his own family.

"We send a few scouts to be sure, but they will need help in the form of a distraction. And I tell you this now, after thinking more on Mulco's words, it may be wise to send out a call for help to the elven lord of the north," Haldad stated matter-of-factly.

"The elven lord, father?" Haleth said in surprise, "Already?"

"Aye, daughter. The sooner word is sent the sooner assistance shall be received," Haldad replied, nodding. "I will speak to Lord Tunni on the matter."

Haleth felt strange shivers forcing her skin to tingle with bumps. _What was this strange magic that compelled such a reaction from her at the mention of his name_?

"I will come with you, father," Haldar said determinedly. "Jorhild and Haldan sleep and I have no desire to do such at this time."

"We should get news of what the Orc scouts intend. Already, there have been reports of them sniffing around the wall," Haldar cautioned. "We will need to discuss this with Mulco and Tunni and decide on the best course of action and how it should be timed to perfection."

"The Orcs know of our spiked pits now, so we will have to think on a new defense to add to both entrances," Haleth added as she bid them farewell and made her way to were Jorhild and Haldan slept, the desire for sleep finally overtaking her.

Finding Jorhild, Haleth lay down on the wet grass, wishing desperately for the warmth of her cloak as she eyed Jorhild and Haldan, snuggled together, their body heat radiating enough warmth for both as a wool cloak lay draped over them.

Haleth hugged herself tightly and curled herself into a ball as she lay on her side, closing her eyes against the cold rain that seemed to penetrate and drench her very bones. Dreams would not reveal themselves as they normally would as she tossed and turned on uncomfortable ground and severe conditions. There would be limited food to look forward to when reality overtook the mist of ungrasped reveries that had no voice of warning against the danger and death that would come upon them. The confusion that now lived in her brain from the previous events of the early morning hours clouded her reception to any netherworld spirits that were trying desperately to reach her.

Desperation, hunger and cold did not make themselves plain in Haleth's mind when she awoke, somewhat refreshed and focused on the tasks that would need to be completed for the remainder of the day. The first, of which, would require having a word with the majority of the Haladin who were left: Women and children.

After condolences and reassuring words of hope, along with small bites of food scrapes at most every family area, Haleth searched for her father and any word of what was to be done.

"The Orcs are vile enough to deal with, my lord," a male voice hissed in an undertone, "But now we have the trouble of nothing to eat to add to our already exhausted heap of misery!"

"Ah, my friend, but is what will happen when a women is set in charge of any task of importance, so don't act so surprised as all that. Besides, you of all people couldn't manage your business in a roomful of whores," Another voice growled crudely from the small cluster of mercenaries who surrounded a lofty, central figure.

Haleth's neck became a blotchy red as her face flared like a sunburned newborn as she reeled around to face a small group of Tunni's men, who stood glowering at her as Lord Tunni stood, frowning at her before turning to them.

She watched with embarrassment as the men continued to talk of the workings of such situations and walked up to them, her face inches from theirs as she stood, unflinching, waiting for any further insult. The men did little but pause and look at her with impromptu distress, perplexed and gapping with astonishment, unable to speak a single word of retraction or even further insult.

"Peace," Lord Tunni finally said at length, leading her timidly away from the group and putting his hand under her elbow to escort her away from the men.

"The idle talk of soldiers, my lady," Tunni finally said uncomfortably.

Haleth grunted and pulled her arm away from him, pivoting on her foot to walk the opposite direction as he stood watching her make her way towards her father. Something Lord Tunni did not recognize broke inside him, knowing that this was an action he could have no recourse of in her unforgiving eyes.

"What news, father," Haleth said, compelling a smile to him.

Haldad frowned a little and wondered what had made his daughter so sullen, but had not the energy to pursue it even is she did tell him and then only assumed it was because of the confusing emotions of her first battle.

"We have no choice in the matter now - we will have to send a messenger to the elven lord tomorrow morning if we can not manage it before this night falls upon us. There is dangerous peril in engaging our opponent in the unlit hours of night where they have the better advantage, as you can fully understand. Meanwhile, our scouts and men in the tower have reported that all that we had thought would happen has, telling us the enemy wasted not a moment and devoured the food in the camp and bringing all to ruin. They lingered overlong this day during their scouting ventures of our stronghold near our north entrance and we believe that is where they will forge their attack - and we shall await them!"

Haleth nodded languidly in accord, agreeing, but then posed the query that had been lingering on her tongue during her father's account, "Aye, but what will we do to again fortify that entrance since they have already felt the sharpness of our pits that will no longer gauge their surprise?"

Haldad looked at her with weary question showing dully in his eyes, fatigued and overburdened, returning her question with a simple gesture, and the shrug of his shoulders.

"Indeed," Haldad said slowly, with mournful despair as he stood and disappeared into the crowds of wounded regiments and already famished babes and children.

* * *

Author's Note:

As always, my gratitude to the "anonymous ones" who are reviewing and leaving such kind and encouraging words. My only wish is that I could e-mail you and thank you with more personal words, but I clearly understand any reluctance to share e-mail addresses in this day and age. :-D

* * *

Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.

* * *


	10. X THE FATEFUL SORTIE

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

* * *

_Chapter X_

**THE FATEFUL SORTIE  
**

* * *

The dusk came too fast, baring skeletal limbs upon sturdy tree trunks, the unforgiving wind pulling down already overburdened and saturated leaves, their brilliant array of warm gold, rust-colored orange and crimson red a damp blanket over the earth. A kaleidoscopic burst of color that never had the opportunity to be seen in its glory when the sunlight burst forth with reflection on the leaves. No, there was only a secret photosynthesis in the black and gray light the obstructed every merry attempt of the sun's radiance.

The Haladin had already mounted most of their limited defenses against the problematic northern wall set tightly against the steep embankment of the River Gelion where they expected most of the Orcs to attack them. But Haldad was no fool in this matter and after a great deal of convincing was able to arrange for Tunni and some of his men to mount a defense at the opposite wall where Haleth and he had entered the night before under the duress of hungry Orcs. Furthering his renewed vigor, he was also able to convince Lord Tunni to accept a small group of his most elite women warrior's, with Jorhild as their strongest asset.

With near relief at the idea of Jorhild instead of Haleth to fight alongside, Lord Tunni grudgingly agreed to Haldad's proposal and immediately took his disciplined infantry to the other far wall.

The night wore away, the Haladin waning in strength and endurance as the Orcs proceeded to test their defenses. For now, they were safe after Beinir lead the charge in stabilizing and reinforcing a wall in place of each of the entries, both to the north and south, building themselves into the fort with no escape in addition to building more ladders with the little remaining wood that could be found.

Both entries now blocked, the Haladin had only to reign down arrows of fire upon the enemy, who finally retreated and made their way back to the Haladin's old campsite. The only chance a messenger would have to reach the elf lord, Caranthir, was to brave the steep embankment Haldad had forbidden them to climb when they performed the last touches on the stockade. Now, there was little choice in the matter. It was a gamble that had to be taken in order to bring a greater salvation to the people, as a whole.

The success of their shooting campaign left much to be desired, and both Haldad and Lord Tunni realized it immediately as the peasants and farmers aimed with all the passion of their heart and none of the experience of even a hunter. Those who met their marks, were either trained warriors or were hunters who traded pelts at the trade center of Mulco.

Despair ran rampant throughout the camp that morning as the fighting men and women of the Haladin were more ready for sleep after the surprise battle than the night before, fatigue and hunger beginning to make its appearance. Nobody had dared to harvest water from the river, on account of the steep bank, but soon, that too would have to come down to a gamble of desperation.

At noontime, with absolutely no food to sustain them, the election of leaders gathered to assess their continually depressing situation.

"We must send the messenger now," Lord Tunni fervently insisted to the others who stood in the meeting circle as he looked skyward, noting the blur of the sun's position in the sky behind more drab clouds. "The steady downpour of rain has ceased after long last and though the water is high and the cliff steep, there can be no more delay!"

"Aye!" Mulco agreed with zealous enthusiasm, "The time is indeed now!"

"Aye," Haldad said, "Let this be done at once then."

Mulco immediately motioned for his men to carry out their orders as Haldad sighed deeply and silence ensued the small crowd, all lost in silent thought for a moment.

"We must also prepare a sortie to surprise the enemy and draw them away from the northern shore so that our messenger can safely make shore and continue on fleet feet to the elf lord of the north," Haldad said with even determination in his eyes. "We must give the messenger all hope to succeed in this task, for our very lives depend upon it."

Tunni's stomach growled with impatient hunger, "There is no way to exit the fortress save the Gelion and to attack the enemy with our limited numbers, even if we used all of our men, would be folly. We do not have the numbers to match their swelling ranks or even their weapons, even should we employ our women or children."

This cost Lord Tunni much of his pride to vocalize such contemplation among his peers, but the evenness of logic overpowered his emotion, for what may have been a rare occurrence.

"I will prepare and lead a sortie over the wall, using Beinir's ladders to climb up and then down near the southern entrance," Haldad said as if Tunni had not spoken. "If we kill their small guard near the southern entrance silently, we can steal around the corner of the structure and draw all of them to us, well away from the north were the messenger will try to regain land."

However, being a master strategist and experienced warlord, Lord Tunni openly considered his idea.

"Mad as it sounds - I am with you then," Tunni stated as he looked directly into Haldad's eyes as the men sealed their word with an ancient agreement between warriors and men.

Turning briefly to Haleth, who stood quietly in their circle, he bowed and departed to prepare his weapons and men for the sortie that would depart as soon as they were gathered.

Haldad turned to his daughter, the wonder of puzzlement evaporating and a sudden recognition in his eyes, which Haleth blithely ignored as she turned to seek Haldan, so that Jorhild and Haldar would have a few stolen moments to talk before the sortie went out.

"Haldar!" Haldad said unexpectedly as they stood at the top of the southernmost tower, "I need you to stay here and defend our escape root."

Nodding with disappointment, Haldar obeyed his father and stood his ground at the bottom of the ladder on the outside of the structure as Tunni's mercenaries skillfully crept quietly upon the Orc guards, slitting their throats with ease.

Haleth stood at the top of the tower with bow and arrows with a few of the guards who prepared and ready to provide aerial support to her brother if more guards should come to relieve their comrades. The sun began to boldly make its way through the clouds and Haleth took it as a good sign from the gods they worshiped that they may yet accomplish what they intended in this mission.

Haleth watched her father and Lord Tunni, moving covertly with effortless lightness toward the Orc armies that occupied the campsite. A modest group of their soldiers were halfway to the northern gate when Haldad bellowed an ear-splitting battle cry, which drew the Orcs to the Haladin warriors. Haleth turned and searched for the messenger in the distance, barely making out his form as he climbed up the steep cliff, drenched and much more cold than she was, she thought with pity. His miniscule form seemed to be going more slowly than was natural, but he had reached the pinnacle of the shoreline and the small speck that was his body, made its way quickly onto the plain.

Alas, the Orcs were not to be completely distracted as one in their ranks spotted him and shot at him from the distance with whizzing arrows, penetrating the messenger's flesh with imperfect accuracy as he stumbled on the leg that had been injured. As the Orc pursued the messenger, growing nearer and nearer, the Haladin of the North watchtower loosed a blanket of arrows that stopped the Orc in his tracks, his heavy form thudding to the ground.

_Would the Haladin of the tower pursue the messenger and bind his injuries or bring him back to safety_? _No_, Haleth thought with regret, _they had made themselves prisoners in their own keep and to do such a thing would be insane._ They would have to pray the messenger did not sustain fatal injuries and could make it to the elven lord of the north. She could see the messenger's fallen form as he moved slowly, dragging himself along the ground.

_Mother Freya, accept this sacrifice of blood to your womb and allow your servant to reach the elven lord of the north_, Haleth prayed silently.

Turning away from the messenger as he crawled into the underbrush that was on the edge of the meadow, she turned her attention to the battle fought nearer to them.

Haleth's eyes narrowed against the sun which grew stronger and brighter, bursting through the dismal clouds like a beacon of hope as she watched Tunni massacre any of the enemy who stood near him. He was a large man, even among warriors and more noticeable than any who stood among their people, proud and skillful in his craft.

Haldad was fighting passionately, but it looked as if the Orcs were beginning to converge upon him and as he fought off blow after blow, he went quickly from being on the offensive to being put on the defensive.

The black, foul beasts were circling him and Haleth longed to call to Tunni, but as Lord Tunni suddenly turned and realized what was happening, it was too late. A wide swing of an Orc who had been behind her father sent his head flying through the air, a geyser of crimson reaching to the vault of heaven. Even at a distance, Haleth saw too many unwanted details of her father's death.

Haleth did not move for fear she would collapse as she commanded herself to grab the wall with her hands, leaning forward and forcing breath in and out of her body as all in her vision blurred to dangerous white spots. All of the men of the Haladin lay still under the Orc blades as the creatures began to tear at the flesh of those who had fallen under their iron and steel, grotesque chunks of bloody flesh dripping and hanging from their sharp fangs and loathsome mouths.

The women beside her gently forced her sit as and pushed her head forward to rest upon her knees and without any utterance, Haleth allowed herself to be cared for without protest or sensibility.

As Haleth's clarity was thrown away to the wind, a Haladin scout had made his way back to given his report to Haldar, who could not see the gruesome battle. As Haleth regained her post at the height of the lookout tower, she beheld Tunni running at remarkable acceleration towards the entrance and Haldar running to meet him. Tunni made a lunge toward Haldar, trying to grab his arm and bring him back with him, but Haldar slipped from his grasp and made a wide arch around the Orcs, drawing most of the enemy forces after him. Tunni turned and watched Haldar disappear into the hungered mob of foaming Orc mouths, his body being ripped to shreds against the razor sharpness of their claws and the crude desperation of their fangs. Tunni fled faster towards the entrance, where Haleth stood upon the watchtower.

As Tunni finally reached the bottom of the ladder, he paused as Haleth turned suddenly to him, the trauma of shock and misery covering her features. Tunni blinked, as if a part of him could not comprehend what he was about to do, and picked up the ladder and threw it into the raging waters where the Gelion and Ascar merged, the wood splintering on the rocks below them.

_My desire is to defend you from harm, lady, so let your remembrance of me be kind_, Tunni thought with deep contrition, _I know now that I must show my love for you in a way you can understand - should you ever come to knowledge of it, may you forgive me for my ruthless deed._

Lord Tunni turned, raising his magnificent battle-ax for the last time, making a wide swing as a massive number of Orcs converged upon him with vicious gluttony as Haleth turned away from witnessing another brutal death of a body hacked mercilessly to pieces.

The women next to her shot futile arrows in defense, but to little noticeable avail, bringing down only a small number of Orcs, who were heedless and oblivious to wounds, wanting only to gorge themselves on man-flesh. The enemy rejoiced with an unsung victory as they ate upon the large man among the Haladin who had brought death to so many of their numbers.

Haleth put a gentle, restraining arm on the warrior women next to her and motioned for her to accompany her down the steps. This battle had exacted a great price upon their people.

Haleth pushed her own grief aside and approached Jorhild with trepidation as Haldan squirmed in front of her, her hold tight on him as he struggled to break free from her grasp as the other children were running in excited circles, playing a game of tag near them.

"Let him go with his friends," Haleth commanded softly.

Jorhild looked at her in a brief display of anger before she turned to meet Haleth's eyes, but seeing the strange expression, soundlessly let Haldan flee from her arms to join the other children.

_How can I recount Jorhild these tragic tidings - _Haleth thought with a great, uncomfortable ache pressing against her heart. Haleth began to furiously blink back the tears that welled in her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks as she inwardly flinched at the important news still left unspoken. Jorhild opened her mouth as comprehension dawned with realization and pulled her sister-in-law into a solid, encompassing embrace.

"Haldad is dead," Jorhild whispered with sadness in her ear as the two held desperately to one another before she added, "But where is my husband, Haldar?"

Haleth sobbed harder, but Jorhild broke their embrace, holding Haleth at arms length, giving her a little shake as Haleth began to shake her head, the sobs coming in uncontrolled spasms.

"_No_," Jorhild said lowly in disbelief, shaking her head as her hands dropped from Haleth's arms.

"He died valiantly," Haleth uttered between sobs.

Jorhild shook her head again and walked away into the distance towards the cliff overlooking the River Gelion, silent and still as a foreboding feeling overtook Haleth.

Haleth began to walk fast behind her, breaking into a run as she grew more anxious as she finally stood next to Jorhild, who's numb expression shown no intelligent awareness in behind eyes full of sorrow.

"You are even more greatly needed, my sister," Haleth said firmly, "It is only you, Haldan and I who remain."

A long silence enveloped the two women who stood looking at the brilliant glimmering water below them when Jorhild finally responded with a nod and made her way back to Haldan.

With their numbers dwindling and a small number of women skilled enough to fight or defend against the enemy, Haleth's mind began to catapult into a numb chaos. _There was no food or drinkable water, she had only women and children along with a small group of men that remained, and she was now solely responsible for all of the Haladin, losing her father, brother and newly christened friend to the diabolical weapons of the enemy along with question at weather the messenger would live to deliver a plea for aid to the elven lord of the north_.

Haleth put her face in her hands for a moment, brushing droplets of tears from her streaked face and then turned, straightened her back and strode back amongst the people to call a meeting of those who remained.

"Attention, Haladin!" she shouted loudly over the crowds of people, "Gather to me, my friends!"

Slowly, the remainder of people clamored in a semi-circle around Haleth as she spoke with firm resolve, "Godi Chieftain Haldar, his son Haldar and the Warlord Tunni have fallen at the hands of the enemy."

Gasps were murmured from the crows as those who had not heard the news reacted. After stilling the crowd, Haleth continued, "Though we have no food or consumable water, we must find the strength to defend ourselves against the enemy when he next attacks."

"Attacks," a random voice from the crowd said, "We are fully fortified in our stockade - how can they issue further attack?"

Haleth narrowed her eyes, "In a way I hope they do not ever consider."

The crowd murmured comments and questions amongst themselves before Haleth called them to order again.

"Fire can be used as a deadly weapon," she with more calm than she felt, her insides twisting with dull pain, "And as most of you realize, our entire fortification is made of timber."

More gasps floated to her ears from the crowd as she pressed on, "I call upon any who can bear arms to stay, while the rest of you depart. We must hold council and determine what we must do to provide safety to all who dwell here."

The most of the women in the concourse dispersed to collect their children, talking vividly among themselves as they fell away from Haleth and those who remained.

Haleth stood silent, feeling as if she could weep for days and not really knowing what she should say next as Beinir stepped next to her and put a solid hand on one of her shoulders before he spoke, "You are our leader, Haleth, and we stand with you to the death."

The small crowd shook their heads with vigorous nods of agreement as she spoke, the words coming upon her at once, "Firstly, we should start training some of those who have left us. We will make the offer and those who have the heart, can volunteer for I would not force my will upon another, even for such a situation as this. We have gone too many days without water or food. Before this day is done, we must send someone down the cliff on a rope to get water to boil. The rains have ceased, but I trust not to the sunny skies. If we can not attain food, at the very least, we may have water."

"What of our messenger?" a stocky woman asked.

"That," Haleth said cynically, "Is something we can have no control over and so we must trust to faith and hold firm any doubt that may come at bay."

"I see strong maids of farming strength that should be able to wield a weapon, who's minds are strong with cunning," Jorhild said nonchalantly, "We need them and convince them to train."

"Aye," they all agreed.

"Approach them now, before these discussions proceed," Haleth dictated with firm purpose.

Jorhild returned bringing forth many of the women who had departed, only those with infants remained in a separate gathering to care for the children.

"We need your strength," Haleth said sincerely, "But would not have my own will pressed upon you. This is a choice you must make of your free will and I will give you no delusions as to what your fate may be if you agree. It will be hard training, the like of which shall be intensified due to lack of food and water where your body shall beg for mercy the like of which long labors on your own farmstead cannot compare. You may well meet the same fate of the men who died today."

The farming wives stood planted to their spots like majestic, grand old trees, their faces set like stone as one stepped towards Haleth and said, "You have my pledge, cheiftainess Haleth, to use whatever skill you can wring out of this aged body."

Haleth smiled for what seemed like the first time in years in spite of the hopeless plight she had been placed at the head of and chuckled as the rest followed suit, stepping towards her and nodding their agreement.

"Let it be so, then," Haleth said as she raised her hand in the blessing of supreme leader and priestess before continuing, "Let us pray to Freya for the safety of those souls who look down upon us from Valhalla and their safe passage to the Great Halls."

* * *

Though water had been provided, it had been sparingly, for the dangerous pulley system they had designed to bring water from the Gelion was slow and dangerous, with little efficiency.

Training the farm-maids had gone better than expected, in Haleth's musing, and she felt confident they would be prepared as well as they could for any future attack from the Orcs, but their numbers where not near a valid defense.

The days of training and coordinating water and care for the Haladin had left Haleth little time to dwell on the death of her father and brother, and thoughts of Lord Tunni, thankfully did not haunt her like they had when Bryeth had been lost to her. At night during the rotating watchtower duty, she had always fallen into an exhausted and dreamless sleep, and for that, she was grateful.

Even with an industrious schedule over the last six days, she had a clear, foreboding apprehension of misfortune, and anticipated an upcoming Orc attack soon. At nighttime, the Haladin could hear the yells and fights among the Orcs, growing restless with hunger and the thirst for human blood.

_It was a shame_, Haleth thought, _that they had not had enough time to dig deep, spiked pits around the entire perimeter of the stronghold_.

That night, after darkness had well embraced the land, the thud of Orc ladders could be heard upon the fortification walls.

* * *

Disclaimer:

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	11. XI HOPE FADES

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

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_Chapter XI_

**HOPE FADES**

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**  
Please be advised before reading this next installment: There will be a bit of detailed gore ahead in this specific chapter that may create a squeamish feel in the pit of your stomach. Though reluctant to disrupt the flow and impact of the story during that time, I feel it essential to give warning just before that particular information is written, or simply put, when it is coming up in the following paragraph. Therefore, it will be noted in a most obvious way and I will write the following paragraph so that you can get the gist of what happened without the gruesome detail and without re-hashing the whole thing for those who do choose to read through that questionable part.  
**

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Shrill, high-pitched cries of warning from the watchtowers echoed throughout the encampment as people began rushing every which way in disorder and chaos. The Orcs climbed the wide, wood ladders made of spruce trees with unexpected speed, as the busy archers failed to get off any shots, too engrossed in hacking down the creatures who tried to crawl over the railings of the wall. The Orcs who were cut down by the piercing steel and wrought iron brandished by the lookouts where instantaneously replaced with two or three more at a time.

Haleth stirred and immediately began to shout orders to secure the watchtowers and then to Jorhild to coordinate the defense of the northern and southern gate, which Jorhild did with a nod as she disappeared into the pandemonium that surrounded them.

Another women, Gudrun, who had been part of their privileged echelon of training forces, was set in charge of the women and children. Many of the elderly women and men who remained with the children acknowledged the realization that they were now too brittle to fight, and so, assisted Gudrun in her labor with their extensive years of wisdom. The only crime that superimposed these elders was that they lacked the physical function demanded to wield a heavy weapon and the matching swiftness, though they commanded something inside their being that could not be taught: A brave and steadfast constitution in the face of such danger and death that was a reality upon all the Haladin at this time.

Haleth mounted the steps of the tower two by two, her long strides setting briefly upon each ladder rung as the Orcs began to overpower the tower guard by their sheer numbers. Taking a quick glance around from side to side, she was able to gauge the situation in most of the towers by the flickering flame of the torches and fading fires lit on the ground in their encampment.

This would surely be a loosing battle, but whether fighting on the towers or upon the ground meant certain death, at least they could give their people a few more precious moments of life to make their peace amongst themselves and with the gods that ruled their existence.

Haleth planted her feet upon the floorboards of the covered tower near the rail and as one of Tunni's remaining guards brutally sliced through an Orc that just about made it over the railing, she grasped the ladder and pushed with all her might. The ladder did not move until Tunni's guard and the women next to him quickly assessed what she meant to do and threw their weight into the chore, sending the ladder crashing to the ground. Though a temporary fix, the other guards saw and began to follow suit.

Near the northern wall, the Orc ladder stood ablaze as it crumbled to the ground. Either Jorhild, or one among her crew had thought of a more permanent way to fell the horrid beasts and when the Orcs along the walls seen what was happening to their fellow soldiers, they all gave up their attempts to remount their ladders.

Instead, they went back to their camp, giving the appearance of being defeated, at least for the time. Haleth patted her fellows on the back, no words necessary in what they had just shared and descended the steps.

As Haleth walked towards the edge of the land towards Gudrun, Jorhild intercepted her.

"I fear I have given the enemy a deadly idea," she said between gasps for air.

Haleth nodded and said mournfully, "That has been my fear since our kin passed to the Great Halls, but we must come up with something to delay them until the daylight, when we have a better, though small, advantage. Besides, with luck, they will not attack in the daylight hours and then we can come up with a resistance against these vile fiends that is even greater."

Jorhild looked at her with despondency, but then grinned with clever malevolence as her thoughts drifted to a way they could use to defeat the foe, "I will seek Beinir."

"Ah, aye. If any can create such a marvel, it is certainly he," Haleth said with a miserable smile in an attempt to mentally thwart of the circumstances upon them.

Haleth continued forward, searching among the fading firelight for Gudrun as she viewed the Haladin who were ceaselessly weeping. _What could cause such as this_, Haleth thought with puzzlement, _the enemy has been held at bay for now and as slim as it may be, there is yet hope in our latest defense_.

"Gudrun," Haleth beckoned as the women turned her head with hopelessness and anger, "What news? Why do these people weep?"

Gudrun motioned for Haleth to follow her to the edge of the great cliffs that overlooked the River Gelion, "There are some who have made a sacrifice of death upon rock."

Starvation, and the painful loss of loved ones, had driven many of the Haladin who remained behind in Middle-earth mad, and coupled with the impending threat of a brutal death at Orc hands, some of the women began to fling themselves in to the rushing waters of Gelion, bodies crashing in a bloody mess over jagged rocks.

Haleth now understood why Gudrun had greeted her with such mixed emotion. As Haleth turned from Gudrun she moved along the banks from one end of the cliff to another, encountering the same situation, torn between pity and outrage.

She stalked back towards the south and began to cry into the night air as she walked, repeating her message for all within her range to hear, "Do not trust to madness, courageous Haladin, for our defenses remain and there are no people on this land who are braver! Only the gods need decide who shall depart this land, and when, so do not fade to another plain, for there is much yet to do!"

Then, after reaching the southern entrance that had been blocked off almost a week ago, when Haldad and Haldar had been so maliciously butchered by Orcs, she listened to there report and sought Beinir, who was said to now be at the north gate.

Walking back up the coastline towards the north barrier in search of Beinir, Haleth repeated her message, her voice resounding in an undeniably passionate and clear tone.

After finally arriving at the north gate, she spied Beinir speaking with great animation to Jorhild and as she approached, Beinir stopped talking and started over, for Haleth's benefit, in what he had been saying to Jorhild.

"We must work quickly to dissemble the wagons and the remaining structures, taking from them all the poles and planks of wood. We must carve sharp points on that which have none. Even if these points are crude, they will do better than nothing," Beinir said, pausing for breath before he continued, "I have people digging what pits they can so we can entrench the ground before the towers and the wall. Those who will be in the tower, will be the ones who will be closely involved in placing the spikes, so they know where to run between when they are finally overpowered by the enemy or if the walls are set to flame."

Haleth firmly placed both hands on each side of Beinir's face and gave him a firm kiss on the forehead, "Freya bless your genius, Beinir."

Beinir, deftly overcoming his brief embarrassment at such affection, bowed and disappeared into the waning night. They had several hours before the daylight burst through the dark sky, and with prayer and reverence, Mother Freya may grant them another day of starvation, but at least they would still have life, even if all they knew and held dear was fading from reasonable hope.

Armed with this news, Haleth sent a herald back down the coastline to Gudrun to deliver the newest tidings and inspire faith for their cause and to answer, without fear, the next Orc attack that would try to breech their walls.

Hours stretched into what seemed like eternity as Haleth, Jorhild, Beinir and Gudrun worked ceaselessly to secure all their carefully laid preparations against the enemy. Those who were hunters by trade were set upon the heights of the towers with one malitia man of Tunni's forces while a sparing amount of his regiment was set on the other side of the spike pits to answer the eventual onslaught.

Beinir operated the south tower while Jorhild controlled the defense of the north. Gudrun stood with what forces remained in a human wall between the open ground and the women and children who restlessly moved on the land atop of the cliffs of the Gelion.

"What if there had been a reasonable means of escape," Gudrun commented to Haleth as they stood near the cliffs before Haleth departed for her station.

"Aye," Haleth nodded with agreement, "No wood for boats and no means to safely lower them over these perilous cliffs - even if we had managed to get the materials."

"The Revered Mother bless us all," Haleth mumbled under her breath as she left and Gudrun lowered her head in a brief moment of respect.

Haleth climbed one of the towers, not far from the north gate, and looked out over the scattered fires of the Orc camp below in the distance. She could make out no shadow or shape in their camp and wondered nervously at the unnatural silence that stilled the air before the dawn.

Haleth narrowed her eyes, squinting and searching the meadows and scattered woodland forests, where she found no reflection of armor or even the shiny oil-like flesh of the creatures who eagerly awaited their downfall. Shaking her head and desiring to contemplate the riddle, she looked directly down the steep wall of the stockade and caught a slight movement.

As the clouds passed the bright orb of glowing white moon set against the black veil of night. Haleth's fears were confirmed as her breath caught in her throat. The enemy was crouched so close to their walls that they were near invisible to their struggling, human vision.

No faint glimmer of eyes or flesh could be seen, only the glistening reflection of moonbeams rebounding from circular shields, raised high over helmets of a matching sheen that should have gleamed, but instead lacked luster due to the blows served to them by countless enemies. Haleth made a hawk-like sound of warning to be passed along the towers, but her disruption to the silence caused a preordained chain of peril.

The Orcs instantly lowered their shields and set the base of the wall on fire, along with ladders that lay hidden below their mass of bodies, soaked in flammable liquid and sent up against the wall in order to quicken its downfall.

Smoke began to billow in a black and gray surge of from the fires, sending the stench of poison up in offering to the sky. A few arrows were issued upon them, but soon there was little hope in such a defense and Haleth called them into retreat as the flames penetrated the wall.

As the hungry screams from ravenous Orcs resonated through the air, loud thuds could be heard on the north wall as Jorhild stood in anticipation while the felled log of a lengthy and thick tree trunk came hurling through the wall, alight with the glowing flames of what seemed their own doom.

The spiked pits would buy them more time than Jorhild could afford, and as Haleth expected, Beinir had been cast in the very same situation. Quickly, Haleth sent half of the tower forces to the south and took half with her to the north gates, leaving the human wall of Tunni and Gudrun's forces to protect the victims who stood huddled on the cliffs of Gelion.

Surrounded by certain death, whether by fire, water, starvation or the savage man-eaters, the weak among the Haladin broke and yet again began to hurl themselves into the raging waters and jagged rocks that protruded from Gelion. Miserable with undeserved guilt, there was little for Haleth to do but protect to her death those that remained strong and brave among those who desired yet to live.

Many of the initial infantry in the enemies ranks had burst through the wall, flames sizzling their already blackened flesh with blistering sores, which sent them into a frenzy of pain, as unconsciousness stupors claimed them before their own permanent expiration.

The death cries of the Orcs who had successfully penetrated the long wall with little injury could be heard as they thumped down along the spiked pits dug for them by the Haladin in murderous welcome. Some of the makeshift cavities were dug deep, while others were almost unfinished and could bring no injury upon the massive creatures who only tripped over them. The shallow holes did little harm or injury because the creatures learned quickly to lean back and forth to avoid them, allowing them to promptly regain their charge.

The sun was almost cresting the horizon, but there was no hope in the rising protection of the luminary orb that began to overtake the darkness. The Orcs had lured them into a false sense of security, for they had not yet coordinated an attack during the daytime hours, as her father, Haldad, had done that fateful day. Even in the broad daylight hours, it seemed to Haleth that the Orc could not be conquered. Whether their intent upon waiting to strike so near the sunrise was purposeful or done out of laziness and confidence, Haleth did not fathom, and she had little time to ponder it except for a brief thought of query.

It was simple, in her own reckoning, not enough Orcs had died and they were now too near to charging through the flames at the gates. Haleth mustered her strength and courage. This time, Haleth could allow no time for dread or uncertainty because, she told herself, these were the very same loathsome creatures that had murdered her father and her brother, along with a man she had just begun to make peace with, showing no ounce of mercy or regret. Her mind reached back even further to a mother she had little time to know and her betrothed lover, Bryeth, the man she should have built a family of her own with had the barbarians not come upon them without warning.

_No_, she thought wickedly with gathering wrath and fury, it was she who would extract a heavy price of retribution from them, and it was she who must lead these people to either victory or an honorable death.

She readied her sword at the oncoming mass of Orcs that finally burst through, their black skin burnished like dully-polished oil in the new morning sunlight. Jorhild stood at her side as they thrust their swords forward and yelled for a charge at the abominable beasts who penetrated their sanctuary.

Quickly, the women were separated in the chaotic fray of battle as Haleth dodged and weaved away from fatal blows from heavy battle-axes and swords, thrusting her own blade through the various necks and between the armpit and trunk of whoever among the enemy she encountered.

The fire was beginning to lose its potency as Haleth lead her armed forces through the wall that had previously been flame and into a concentrated thicket of orc forces. Here the fighting was concentrated and vicious, as the Haladin cut their way through the Orc gladiators, making a failing, diminutive amount of headway.

However, to Haleth's great surprise, the crowd seemed to be thinning and the Orcs appeared to rally against some new confusion that could not yet be perceived by the Haladin. The neigh of horses and a language that sounded like a forceful, but tragic song carried over the wind to Haleth's ears, confusing her emotions and making her feel like weeping with sadness and joy at the same time.

Haleth paused as she caught sight of strange men on horses plowing through the company of Orcs, felling them like a tidal wave washing over grains of sand upon the shoreline and sweeping them out to oblivion. Among them, and at the front of the charge, was a male being so beautiful and full of fury and grace, that he could not be of any of the kindred of men that Haleth had ever recalled to her memory.

The sun created an aura of shining light around his body and that of his fellows, gleaming like a celestial body set purposefully upon the land. Not only had their prayers been answered, but the greatest of all the Gods; The Godhead, The One, Odin, had come to personally save them, perhaps at Frey and Freya's bidding, Haleth thought fleetingly.

The god looked upon her then, catching her eye over the clanging of weapons and cries of death and victory, as Haleth, still staring with distracted awe at the approaching man with eyes as clear and translucent as pools, turned suddenly with alarm.

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GORE WARNING: Please skip forward if you have an aversion to a detailed description of bloodshed.  
  
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A sharp blade grazed her biceps with a cut that penetrated Haleth's flesh, causing a deep gash in her arm as blood quickly soaked her garment. Turning in surprise and anger, Haleth bared her teeth and let loose a primal growl of infuriated rage that exploded into wrath as she swung her sword in a wide arch with every ounce of might she had, the shock of the wound forgotten. The head of the Orc who had struck her went flying into the air as the tattered strands of flesh hung precariously from her arm, crimson fluid dripping and mingling with the chunks that had not yet escaped the restraints of her garment. Incensed, Haleth turned and thrust her sword through another neck, so enraged all fear departed from her being as she moved her head so close to the animal that his blood spattered in dots across her face as she continued to bare her teeth in a mad frenzy, pulling out her blade and kicking his body to the ground.

Still additional Orcs approached her in a last attempt to slay another of the race of man, but Haleth's senses were remarkably acute at this time and her focus lay only on butchering as many of the enemy as time, and her fading strength, would allow.

This one was well over her height and there was little she could do to reach his neck so she thrust her sword instead through his groin and then sliced the member that spilled from him, maiming his manhood, the protective armor of his legs not covering his most important source of procreation. A primal scream issued from his whole body, escaping with indescribable pain through his mouth as he sank to his knees where she kicked his face with all her might, expediting his backwards fall to the ground. Haleth then stomped once, with finality, one foot upon his face and then rested moved to rest her foot atop his wide chest. _Would that she could strike down the whole creation of Orc blood in this one decisive action_, she thought with wild enthusiasm.

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THE DESCRIPTION OF SQUEAMISH MATERIAL IS DONE...this is the paragraph you will want to continue with then...

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Haleth smiled balefully, her foot on the chest of the felled Orc as Odin approached her, the enemy falling around her under this gods swift and lethal forces. His hair shown dark, much like her own people, but there was a questionable emotion that shown in his eyes as he drew near and looked down at her. The sound of clashing blades subsided with only the cries of dying Orcs, and the sound of men moaning in pain, surrounding them in a tunnel of agonizing ruin and death.

_No, this was not Odin after all_, Haleth thought instantly, as she held his probing gaze without flinching.

Bowing with respect, the lord dismounted his horse. In following his fluid movement, Haleth saw the messenger of Mulco they had sent almost a week ago at his side, favoring one leg with a slight bend, though his eyes smiled with recognition.

Haleth realized this must be the Elf Lord of the North who stood before her as she struggled to grasp the basic Sindarian she had been taught. Unpracticed in forming the words she had never used except for schooling so long ago, she remained silent and bowed in return, moving to clasp his shoulder in the generally accepted for of thanks among the different peoples of Middle-earth.

However, the wound that left a deep fissure in the tissue where her skin was widely split was located on her dominant arm refused to move without pain. It had been idle for an amount of time that it must of deemed too long, for it had stiffened in the realization that any further threat of the enemy posed no further immediate danger.

Haleth, unable to mask the contortion of pain on her face, began to sway where she stood rooted to the ground as the elf-lord moved to her and laid both hands upon her wound. Then, turning he beckoned his man-at-arms to approach, and bring a draught with his kit of medicinal herbs that would quicken her healing.

Knowing most humans did not have any grasp of Quenya, his native and preferred tongue, the elf-lord spoke to her in Sindarian, "I am Caranthir, Lord of Thargelion."

Haleth only stared at him with question, not yet grasping what his words meant as the elven healer carefully eased her onto the disheveled grassland, soil protruding in tuffs of turf under the pivots and stomping of many feet. Caranthir kneeled at her side and waited for her to speak, but her eyes began to glaze over and her eyelids began to flicker up and down.

Caranthir looked at the thin gray clouds that held in the heavens, as the elven healer forced the medicinal draught down the woman's throat before she lost consciousness. Turning back to Haleth, he bestowed a rare smile, begrudging the unpleasant plight of their circumstance and seeing much of complicated emotion and meaning in her eyes as unconsciousness overtook her into a pleasant oblivion of dream.

"Lodin," the elf said in Sindarian, addressing the messenger of Mulco by name, "I must speak with the leader of these people, where is he?"

Lodin could not mask a prideful smirk at Caranthir, as the young man nodded towards Haleth, who lay with the grim look of approaching death across her face.

Caranthir's eyes widened with surprise for a short-lived moment as he turned back to the healer and spoke in Quenya, an intent and dark threat implied in his tone, "This women must live."

Nodding at Caranthir's order, the healer finished packing Haleth's wound with herbs and fastened a quick bandage over it before he motioned for a group of elves to carry her to a nearby meadow, where elves were already setting up a temporary area to administer to the wounded.

Just north of the carnage of the raid and the Haladin's last encampment, more elves worked with quick efficiency to set up a new camp to house the refugees of Haleth's Folk.

While their leader slept in blissful, painless slumber for the time being, the Second House of the Edain were now under the care and direction of Caranthir, a Fëanorian Prince of the Noldor tribe who ruled all of Thargelion, and who once traveled under dire and lawless defiance from the once peaceful land of Valinor.

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Author's Note: Well, well - the elf-lord has arrived! Since we will be getting to know him a little bit more in his interactions with Haleth in the upcoming chapter, the next update will probably take a bit longer than the normal one to two weeks as I will be re-reading sections of _The Silmarillion_ and then reading a new book (new to me) that I have not read yet which is part of the HoMe series, _The Shaping of Middle-earth_. There are many references to Caranthir, as shown in the index of this HoMe book, whether I put them to use or not for this character, I will not know until after I have read and digested the information. Certainly, I would like to refresh in my mind the details of his character from the Silm reading at the very least. However, I must say, I am quite looking forward to seeing what _The Shaping of Middle-earth_ will show for Caranthir as well.

Wish me luck writing Caranthir's character! In my humble opinion, elves are the most challenging to write. My regards and respect to those of you who already write them so very well!

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Disclaimer:

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.

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	12. XII THE ELF LORD OF THE NORTH

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

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_Chapter XII_

**THE ELF-LORD OF THE NORTH**

* * *

_The frailty of humanity had the men who courageously fought the Orc slipping and sliding like newborn foals in the mud as the earth desperately tried to soak up the excess rain_. _The Orcs stood planted like the wide, black tree trunks, rooted wherever their heavy feet fell upon the ground in an almost one-sided battle where they mercilessly slaughtered the Haladin and chopped their bodies to chunky pieces of flesh and bone_. 

Haleth awoke with a start, reluctant to feel the physical pain that lingered and seeped into her body as she continued to yearn for sleep, even if it meant facing the dark recesses of surpressed emotion and morbid dreams of butchery.

There was a shuffling outside as a tent flap was pushed aside and Jorhild walked towards her, visibly relieved.

"My lady," Jorhild said with a bow and regal, formal air, "It is good to have you among the living."

Haleth gave her the beginnings of a sly grin in response to her teasing, which quickly disappeared into a grimace as racking pain overtook her when she tried to sit up. Jorhild moved to still her and then signaled for her to wait a moment as she returned with a strange looking person bearing a cup and small sack filled with herbs and fresh bandages.

Haleth was startled by the beauty of the healer so much that she lay still, and obeyed his silent commands before he departed from the shelter after whispering soft words into her ear in an unfamiliar language of melody that set her at ease and gave her great comfort.

"That is not like the song I heard when these fair beings slew the Orcs when all hope seemed lost," Haleth commented, her voice raspy from lack of use as she thought back to the ethereal song she heard, powerful and mournful, moving her to the verge of sad and blissful tears.

It was Jorhild's turn to grin, "What we heard was a horn sounded in charge, with hope and ages of its own tragic story to tell."

Haleth raised her eyebrows in surprise, but could not force out words up her sore, burning throat to ask Jorhild to tell all the details she knew, or had guessed, while she drowsed between dream and nightmare. For some reason, Jorhild hesitated, and Haleth quickly assumed that it must be because she did not want to be overheard by their caregivers, who must be milling around the camp and close by as they walked past the walls of Haleth's makeshift infirmary.

Sensing her mind, Jorhild moved to pour her a cup of water, in addition to the concocted prescription the healer had administered, and added, "The kinsmen of this Elf-lord from the North have keener ears and senses than I have ever known or seen."

Haleth nodded her thanks and moved her hands to grasp the cup and drink as her hands, also unused after so many days of stillness, shook like a moderate convulsion.

Just as Haleth shot a glowering look at Jorhild as she moved to help her steady her cup, the tent flap was flung open and a tall, dark elf strode through the door. _Odin_! Haleth's heart initially cried as her mind surpressed it and correctly stated, _The Elf-Lord of the North_.

Haleth mentally shook herself and began to loose control of her cup as he moved quickly to remove it from her grasp, holding it gently to her lips and leading her to drink it in slow sips.

Jorhild's ire cooled as she was about to reason with her sister-in-law to let her assist her and was replaced with amusement as she took her leave, assuring Haleth that she would return soon.

Haleth felt herself grow warm with a foreign excitement that made her blood race and pound against her skin, which was added to the uncomfortable drumming of her heartbeat in her ears as she began to wonder what the elves had put into the draught she was given.

Sensing her alarm and plan for fruitless retreat, Caranthir spoke, "I am Caranthir, the lord who rules Thargelion. You should presently know, now that you are in your waking mind, that the vile beasts who savagely attacked you and your people have been driven to their ends by the swift waters and cliffs of the great River Gelion," and then the dark elf added with a severe air, "Those who sought the safety of Ascar's soft slopes were set upon by elvish steel."

Haleth lay, moved beyond thought and emotion at his passion and harsh tone, both fearing and loving the spirit that moved within him, a common force against a shared enemy.

His voice, even in its harshest tone was like a mighty battle hymn, imposing command and favor, and his countenance left her with much uninvited desire. His dark features were like the men of the Haladin, but moved beyond normalcy, the depths of his eyes filled with wisdom, light and fire.

_What was this enchantment upon her_, she thought suddenly, narrowing her eyes at the vision of beauty and power who stood before her as he turned, smiling within himself with an suggestion of proud vanity, to place the cup upon a nearby table.

Elf or man, he knew the sway he had with the women of the Edain when they first laid their eyes upon him in his unmasked radiance. However, Caranthir, the tormented and angry Noldor Prince of the North, was genuinely more pleased beyond any of such had been in his experience yet on Middle-earth, for this Atani had scowled at him in rebellion, quicker than any female from the race of men to question his appearance, desiring more than just his Elven glamour.

He pivoted, and looking as if he hadn't moved at all, stood hovering near her side again, peering at her carefully, his thoughts masked and the fire of his eyes suddenly hidden, before he went to settling her back onto her pillows.

"I am told you are the leader of these people," he said with a sincere look of respect, all sign of hostility against the Orc removed from his words.

Before she could respond, he continued, somewhat enamoured with what he saw as a strange creature who was worth knowing more of and keeping closer to his abode, "I know of your loss, lady, and I saw great valour in your deeds in such circumstance."

Caranthir, though considered by most of his kind as the quickest to anger and wrath, was still of Elvish kind, and therefore wise when his passion permitted. The Elf-lord gave himself no delusions in this matter of gaining the trust of the Haladin. The time was not ripe to suggest any movement of their permanent settlement.

Haleth's only acknowledgement that she had heard him was when she held his gaze, with an anguish and suffering he had never seen in the Edain, and then closed her eyes with weariness and drifted off into sleep once more.

Caranthir the Dark, bad tempered and incensed in most of his wakeful hours, saw himself in the Atani women as he sat down by her side, wishing to touch her mind, but resisting the temptation. His past, present and future was overshadowed by a deadly Oath he had sworn in another land. Even Caranthir knew that invading the reason and crux of the mortal heart could not be added to his shameful list of sins.

His relationship with this Edain was not connected to his fateful Oath, nor would he ever allow it to be, out of respect for her spirit and valiancy, and for the sake of her beloved people. However, in the limited time of Haleth's lifespan, he could at least promise friendship and protection where they could live out their days in peace. This burden of loss was too great for a women of the Edain to bear by herself.

Caranthir knew what it was like to loss both father and mother, but at least he had his brother's for companionship, when it suited, but this women had not even that. He wondered how the loss of a sibling, more so, a twin would feel. How would Amrod or Amras feel if one fëa departed before the other? The two were inseparable and somewhere deep in his being, he knew the survivor of the two would join the other quickly, suffering death by sheer grief.

_What would I do with one so close in companionship as all that, with people of her own to care for,_ he thought ruefully, as the clarity and consistency of his nature ruled his reason, _I dwell nigh in the nether region of Lake Helevorn, happy in my own solitude_. Caranthir would not invite any to share in his sullen abode, shadowed by mountains and quiet.

The Elven-lord also knew that his epiphany of admiration of the Atani was his own revelation to keep tightly secure, restricting any probing of word or thought from others of his kind, save maybe Finrod, for how could any other understand the respect, the pity, and the compassion he suddenly felt for the race of men.

Caranthir chuckled to himself at the ridiculous notion of making amends with Finrod, the Elf-lord of Nargothrond, a land far to the West of Beleriand. Finrod, the renowned friend of men, and even, he thought scathingly, a friend to the ugly little Naugrim. Such a great friend was he to the Naugrim that the small creatures of Aulë had designed for him his own special name: Felagund. Thus, he became known more commonly as Finrod Felagund.

The Elf-lord of the North pictured an amusing meeting where the two sat down together to a civil cup of tea and biscuits, discussing the various attributes of the Atani. Caranthir did not consider Finrod's blood thick enough to warrant anything more than an attempt at politeness. For his kin, Finrod, was only a cousin born of a half-uncle, Finarfin, who wedded a Teleri of Alqualondë. The Teleri, others of their race that he and his brothers had slew at the direction of their father, Fëanor, and whose ships were overtaken and forced to bore them to this accursed land. Other swan ships were set to flame and burned like the aching fingers of funeral pyres, dancing among dark, billowing clouds of smoke to an open sky of pale, innocent blue.

Back in those years, the Oath had been clear and simple, but after the Kinslaying, there was nowhere to turn back to and it seemed much easier to continue forward, into further darkness and despair. Easier, he thought with contemplation, to be indignant at the lesser actions of their half-blooded cousins who pandered to Elu Thingol of Doriath.

The only elf who could ever rule Caranthir was his father, but he had been released into servitude and penance in the Halls of Mandos at Mithrim in the Dagor-niun-Giliath.

Sighing inaudibly and taking one last look at the peaceful expression on the women's face, Caranthir stood and exited from the tent, all thoughts of the Atani wiped from his mind and replaced by a seething rage of ongoing frustration, as was his nature.

Nearly running into Jorhild as he strode from the entrance, Caranthir gave her a slight bow, preoccupied in thought, and brushed past her and her vicious look of insult as she entered the tent.

In a huff, Jorhild walked towards Haleth, her vexation slightly up at the brisk encounter with their host. _Was it not I who have been of assistance to this ungrateful lord while my sister lay in dangerous unconsciousness_, she thought angrily, feeling fully justified in her displeasure with the dark elf.

Moving her thoughts to memory she suddenly thought of their discovery of Haldar's sword, all that remained of his being, for the bones and flesh of his body had lain scattered and then had been ripped apart in the ravenous hunger of the enemy. What was not consumed, was trampled on by the heavy step of Orc boots, leaving a disheveled mess where the remains could not be distinguished or identified by any.

Jorhild's memory fueled her anger as she paced the room, waiting for Haleth to wake. The only remains she had of her husband were memories and his sword, which she would possess only temporarily before she passed it on to their son, Haldan.

_What madness_, she thought, _what folly_! Jorhild worried extensively for her husband and father's safe passage to the Great Halls, praying that Freya, in her wisdom, had somehow ordered their freed spirits put upon the winged horses of the Valkyrie. There could be no ceremonial funeral pyre for them for nothing was left, but there could be for those whose bodies had not been ravaged by the flesh-eaters as the elves had arrived and beat them down to the flowing waters of Gelion and Ascar.

Haleth would rightly demand the pyre set for those whose bodies remained, and so, Jorhild departed, and set to do it, vowing to return later when she could perhaps catch Haleth awake and out of the company of the Dark Elf-lord.

* * *

Haleth ran her finger along the ax handle of her father's weapon, which Jorhild had been able to recover from the battlefield. 

"He is full of some deadly secret," Jorhild whispered bluntly as she and Haleth spoke later that evening.

Haleth closed her eyes for a few moments and then opened them again, "That is not so uncommon, I think, and we have not much time to remain in his care. As soon as I can manage my body, we will bury all our dead as is fitting, remove to the forests and see what can be salvaged from the devastation of our homesteads. What will come next, I know not at this time."

Again, Haleth closed her eyes, weary of even this limited thinking that she was asking of her brain.

"You are weary," Jorhild said kindly. "I will set things in motion and when you are ready, you will tell me."

"Wait," Haleth insisted, "There is but one last thing, sister."

Jorhild turned to Haleth as she stood ready to exit near the doorway.

"You must take this and give it to Haldan when he is grown," Haleth said, motioning to the large hand-carved ax that now rested upon her legs.

Jorhild shook her head back and forth, quick, short movements making the stray wisps of hair that escaped their confinements dancing with accentuated denial, "What madness do you speak? This was your father's ax."

"And he will not be wielding it again on Midgard, nor will I. It is for Haldan to bear in strength and wisdom, when you deem the time is come," Haleth said firmly. "That is my final word so, come hither and remove this great weight from me."

Jorhild brushed her lips over her forehead and turned quickly, a tear nearly making itself known before she could turn her back to her sister and take her leave as Haleth gave her a weak nod and closed her eyes, worn-out and unable to fight her heavy eyelids as she left and the elvish healer returned to the tent.

Sensing a new energy and motion in the room, Haleth forced her eyes open and looked intently at the healer, unspoken question in her eyes, as he changed her bandage and spoke to her in that same musical tone she had grown accustomed to during their meetings before he guided another dose of medicinal herb wine throat.

"Leave us," came the commanding voice of the Dark Elf-lord, Caranthir, as the healer bowed respectfully and moved so smoothly, Haleth's eyes interpreted him gilding, with unearthly grace, out of the room.

Haleth inched her torso upward to rest against the comfort of fluffy pillows, and the Elf-lord did not stop her, but assisted her this time.

"You have my gratitude," Haleth said, her voice stronger and purer than earlier that day.

Caranthir considered her for moments that seemed like eternity to Haleth, deliberately contemplating her declaration and assessing her recovery before he spoke, "You are most welcome and as I said, I am pained at your loss."

Haleth continued to look at him, lost in the dark recesses of his soulful eyes and heavenly allure as she considered him for a moment. The Elf-lord was beyond begin simply attractive, possessing something otherworldly that Haleth had never experienced, even in her visions; but she continued to assess him with deep concentration and saw a glimpse of a dark secret untold, anger, pain, and loss.

Finally, she gained a semblance of her priestess training and drew upon the knowledge of her visions, both invited and uninvited. Smiling at the memory of when she last saw Bryeth at the temple of her father's settlement, at the same time when she had gathered the women and children, she remembered that she had dealings with immortals before in her time. What she saw in this elf was eternal and the sudden realization calmed her and set her into a level of ease and normalcy.

Without the allurement and enchantments of immortality, he was only another soul, racked like any by emotion and the rules imposed by the gods and goddesses, those beings of a higher power that governed those of lesser status. Rules, she remembered with a sudden shudder, that she had once pressed too far, near to a place beyond redemption.

Marveling at the Atani women in front of him, Caranthir nearly caught his breath for the first time in many years, shocked at himself for doing so and slightly angry for that very same reason.

Caranthir was just about to given into temptation and clear his throat, becoming so moved by this encounter with Haleth that he nearly dared a physical sign of such emotion, but thought better of it. Such an action was for the nervous actions of humans and lesser creatures. He was still a prince and the son of the greatest of the Noldor, Fëanor, and would not lower himself to such standard or reaction in front of any human. Though the knowing smile of amusement and sudden oozing of confidence from Haleth had him admittedly fidgeting inside, he kept it firmly beneath the surface and hidden from any who would examine it.

"You have the friendship of my people, lady," Caranthir said, a little flustered as pushed emotion aside and shrewdly assessed whether to continue with his plan.

"Many thanks," Haleth said cordially, awaiting more.

Caranthir instinctively knew he must tread slowly with Haleth and retreated from the initial speech he had prepared. _It was too soon and her head was not yet clear or free enough of all that had befell_, he reasoned to himself. _Besides, she nearly sees too much_.

"You have had a great loss, lady, and I fear I have overburdened you with speech," he said smoothly, "Will you not let me adjust your pillows for slumber? The draught will be overtaking you momentarily."

Before Haleth could respond, an eternity seemed once more to pass as Caranthir eased her back into a comfortable sleeping position and left the room as her eyelids drooped closed for the night.

* * *

The next morning showed the promise of sunshine with no hindrance of clouds of any sort blocking the intense rays that shot through the sky to the earth, warming her chill with tepid caresses. Haleth had worked with the personal healer to Caranthir all morning inside the tent to regain her footing, working hard and anxious to be among her people and to see the blessings of the outdoors. 

Haleth slept soundly through the afternoon, after a hard morning's work of rehabilitation, and was awake again by the time dusk neared when the healer returned with Caranthir.

Haleth beamed at the two immortals and was blessed with a peaceful look of contentment from Caranthir and a grin from the healer, whose pride at his charge's progress radiated from him as if the early morning rays of sun had been transferred and placed in his whole embodiment.

As they stepped near her, the healer set a serving of food and drink at her tableside and then began to take the individual dishes and settle it upon her lap.

Haleth looked at him with insult, contemplating slapping his hand away so that she could do it herself, and just as she raised her hand to do so, she thought better of it. She felt the probing, penetrating eyes of Caranthir upon her and knew he was already observing her with obvious suspicion.

"Thank you," she said in her most courteous voice as the healer nodded and went to a console near her bed laden with the weight of medicines.

"Linval," Caranthir said, "Bring forth another draught for our lady, Haleth."

Haleth's eyes widened, but she quickly masked this and spoke casually, "Would that my progress this morn could mean reaching the outside of this tent."

Caranthir issued an unexpected smile which widened as his humor grew, "What say you, Linval, is this woman ready for the twilight."

"Should she eat what is set before her, it would do her great good to breath the fresh air, my lord," Linval replied as his tone trembled with mirth, refusing to turn and face them.

Haleth narrowed her eyes for a moment, knowing she had been the expense of their jest, but a smile quickly replaced all though as her heart soared at the prospect of breathing the fresh night air.

Linval administered a draught, which Haleth suspiciously took, having doubts that this was unlike all the others, which had only resulted in sleep after she had dutifully taken them.

"This will give you strength and ease whatever pain my come," Linval said softly, removing Haleth's dishes from her lap and then looking at her with the unrestricted eye of a healer.

"Do not linger overlong, lady, or the result will mean no progress has been made this day," he warned, the musical sound of his voice still powerful, but comforting, in his forewarning.

"I would be honored to assist you, lady," Caranthir said with kind chivalry as he met her eyes.

"That would do well," Haleth said as she moved to swing her legs over the side of the bed, which had both elves rushing towards her, arms outstretched as she flinched at the sudden pain that registered in her arm after she pulled the bed sheet from her body and thought to lean on it.

"You move too fast," Linval admonished hastily as Haleth's eyes bore into him with fierce determination.

"Then I shall move slower," she said, moving her injured arm to rest upon her lap as Linval showed her a hint of a glower as Caranthir began to chuckle audibly.

Haleth's glare moved from the healer to the elf-lord as he saw the look on her face, which made him want to laugh harder. Instead of giving into temptation, he righted himself and said, "Forgive me lady, it is not often the powerfully musical song of Linval is silent or his countenance set into a grimace in such a situation as is this."

Linval bowed with a glare, and departed to the ringing tones of Caranthir's melodic laughter, which he held in check no longer as he heard Linval mumbling in Quenya about the Atani who heeded not the slow art of thought before movement.

After Linval had left, Haleth smiled, unable to glower with such a beautiful sound resonating throughout the tent along with the reality that she would finally get to move from this tent and into the fresh air of the night.

As they made slow progress towards the cliffs of Gelion, to the north of where the stockade stood, Haleth began to form a thought in her mind that she spoke to the elf-lord.

"Tell me," Caranthir began pointedly, "How is it you embrace the twilight, for you seem most at ease in the darkness."

Haleth looked at him, puzzled, and then responded, "There is nothing to fear in night but lack of vision, my lord."

Caranthir thought about the whole of the Atani, who bore the nickname, Night-fearers, among other labels from his kind, and wondered how this name was placed upon these people. The answer of those who dwelled in the camp was easy to surmise for they had the light of fires and the protection of the Firstborn. He knew not to calculate the Lady Haleth's ease to his own person, as vain the temptation was to him to think himself a supernatural champion of this women who walked calmly beside him in the half light. As Caranthir entertained his deliberations of that very exact fantasy, drifting into reveries of grandeur and heroism, Haleth interrupted his thought with a most unexpected and direct statement.

"We have many dead to gather for funeral rites," she commented as they neared the cliffs, her gaze drifting to the south, where the burned remains of the stockade had stood.

"Your woman in command, Jorhild, has said and done as much," Caranthir said with a grin, enjoying the directness and blustering hauteur of these folks so like him.

In the days that Haleth lay in recovery, Jorhild, her sister-in-law by marriage, had challenged him on near everything from Haleth's care to the establishment of their shelter and the guardianship of their people. Jorhild had not allowed him to over-extend any form of kindness for her own benefit.

After many days with the Haladin, today had proven that he and his kind had grown to delight in this Second House of the Edain dearly, for it was rare for them to show emotion of any kind, even in courtesy of easing communications. Masking their emotions had come easily when among others, but it became easy to smile and to laugh, something all together rare, even among themselves as they dwelled in near, self-imposed exile from the rest of the Noldor.

Caranthir had also observed how the Haladin were fiercely independent, another trait that immediately endeared them to his aged heart. These Atani, Eru's second born were much like his children in a strange way, he thought, had he ever produced any to carry on his line. He regretted that there were none of his offspring which he could see grow to adulthood, but it was best not to bring more into Middle-earth that would needlessly inherit the terrible curse of the Oath that had been sworn in ancient days, at the height of passion and madness.

So, he had even grown to admire Jorhild, with her bluntness that so many of his kind would take as bordering on rudeness. He had been one of them himself, Caranthir silently admitted, but seeing this fierce race of proud and determined folk in action had turned him to concern and admiration. They were much alike, the widow of the Chief's son and the elf-lord, and Caranthir believed Jorhild knew it too, for she would not have simply departed from Haleth to leave her in his care earlier - and with an amused grin at that. Jorhild could mask it, but there was of no success against his astute perception for he was the a son of the Noldor, the Deep-elves, the Wise, and no mortal could hide what he willed to see.

"Your sister has done aptly well in your stead, Lady Haleth," Caranthir said as they stood in a wave of silence atop the cliffs of Gelion.

Finally, after long moments, Haleth spoke, "Jorhild is a capable women with a steel in her heart not many among us can claim. Even with such steel, her emotion runs deeper than many know."

Caranthir understood what Haleth implied and nodded, so that the women next to him would know he understood her meaning, among elves, this would be a pointless display, for their perception amongst themselves was highly sensitive.

"And what of you," Caranthir said pointedly, "How does your heart fare? Jorhild has had days to work through her grief and loss and you have just begun to linger more and more in waking thought."

Haleth turned to him, and so he rotated towards her as well to meet her pale eyes under brilliant, glimmering diamonds of starlight.

She was speechless for a moment, seeing the light of Valinor dulled in his face under the cloak of midnight blue sky for a moment, before the enchantment of the stars lent a majestic light to his bright eyes.

"My slumber was not all weightless dreams and blissful forgetfulness," Haleth said in a faltering whisper, scarcely able to coerce the hesitate words from her throat.

Without having to brush against her thought with elvish talents, he instinctively knew of her experience. _Had he not lost souls dear to him as well, with little promise of seeing them in joyful reunion after penance in the Halls of Mandos, if in fact they, the Oath-swearers, were still allowed there before returning to Valinor, where forgiveness would be hard-earned, if given at all_?

Again, the overpowering desire to intrude upon her mind came back to him, this urge much stronger than the last. Instead of giving in to his craving, he remained standing, a head above her, looking down at her with compassionate and appreciative eyes, grateful for having found humanity in a fair light and admiring the gift bestowed upon them by Eru, to have only one life, one ending where they did not have to pay the price for their wrongs for eternity or reincarnate to emend them.

Haleth looked deeply into his spiritual being and was glad to no longer see the pity she had sensed dwelling behind the depths of his eyes when they had spoken earlier. _Always initially slow around him_, a clear thought registered in her understanding as she conferred an auspicious smile of fondness upon him.

"What the gods demand as a price to extract is not mine to design," Haleth said with acceptance. "What I do with my time on Midgard is my own and willed by those greater than me."

"Midgard?" Caranthir questioned.

"Middle-earth," Haleth replied after a struggle to find the Sindarian word in her memory banks.

"Ah," Caranthir said, nodding understanding and returning a charming, broad smile at Haleth. He had learned a new word this day, and from an Atani women, no less. The elf's grin widened as he thought, _would it not be justifiable to touch her mind, this new friend who welcomed him to her with warmth and friendship, and be done with this struggle for words in a language that it is clear neither one of us likes_?

Caranthir had almost convinced himself that a telepathic jaunt would be perfectly alright when Haleth spoke without warning, "I should go amongst my people before all energy escapes me."

Turning and holding out his arm as escort, Caranthir lead Haleth back to camp where she paid a visits to the cooking fires of many of her folk, offering comfort and condolences to those who had lost loved ones and laughing in camaraderie with those who were given to good humor in the face of emotional destruction.

Caranthir observed her with respect and deepening affection, but then approached her after she had visited many fires when she began to eat some of her native food. He had made effort not to intrude, standing back in the shadows, but came forward like a soaring phantom among mortals to softly warned her, "You are strong, Lady Haleth, but do not attempt too much lest your body betrays you."

Seeing his logic, Haleth reigned in her appetite and went back to the tent for some medicinal broth and elvish bread, at the subtle direction of Lord Caranthir.

"I have watched you among your people, my lady, Haleth," Caranthir said, speaking as she finished her soup and raised her eyebrows at him, urging him to his point.

Stifling another smile, something that had been foreign to him for so long on the frigid shores of his mountain retreat near Mt. Rerir and the cold northern walls of the Ered Luin, the elf-lord continued, "You care for them well, and they, you."

"That I do," Haleth stated with unwavering passion, and nodded in agreement as Caranthir continued, "You have my unending friendship for as long as your days remain on this Midgard of yours."

Haleth smiled at his use of Midgard as her respect deepened for him instantly, a boundless feeling of warmth entered her heart and formed a swelling bubble of tenderness for this regal and dark-haired elf-lord, this god who walked among men.

"I would offer you my protection and free lands to start new settlements, removed from this now wasted land that holds so much painful memory for you and your kind," he said pleasantly as he moved over to sit next to her on the bed.

"Remove to the north, where our forces are near to you and what you have left of your people," Caranthir said, appealing to her with sincere petition.

Haleth thought for a moment, "You are more than kind and gracious, my Lord Caranthir, but I will no longer dwell in the shadow of the Blue Mountains. If I take my people north, we will still be in its far-reaching shadow."

_This is folly_, Caranthir thought, a brief flash of anger at his new friend for what he deemed poor judgement, but the firmness and conviction of her voice gave him no vain thought that he could convince her otherwise, at least at this time, and so he relented without harsh words of regard, not wanting to cause further pain to this child of Eru.

"It must be as you wish, then," Caranthir said, his intonation unreadable, as he gave a curt bow and abruptly withdrew from the shelter in which Haleth was housed.

Haleth sat in speechless astonishment at Caranthir's quick words and departure as her mind reeled, _was it unwise to not dwell in the presence and protection these god-like creatures could promise them_? _What would the people say of her impetuous decision, made without any council whatsoever_?

* * *

Disclaimer: 

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	13. XIII OF GIFTS AND RITUAL

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe_

* * *

_Chapter XIII_

**OF GIFTS AND RITUAL**

* * *

An aurora of dazzling sunshine touched the exposed blanket of sparkling frost that covered the floors in meadows and woodland as Haleth moved among her people, offering continued condolences to those who had lost loved ones.

Jorhild moved with Haleth, matching her strides, as Haldan played a game of tag with the other children, whose normalcy was an inspiration to adults around them. To most any passing spectator, there would be nothing out-of-sorts that could be observed in these people as fires and cooking continued along with the normal daily tasks of laundering and typical chores.

Her fast still not broken from the time she awoke during the early hours of morning, Haleth finished speaking with those among her people that stood hovering around various campfires. She then ordered Jorhild to gather the remnant of their key personnel and bring them to the meadow where their leaders had been first overtaken by the Orc raiding party days earlier.

It did not take Jorhild long to complete this task, but while Haleth waited from them in the field, her thoughts began to stray to the loss she felt for her family before she quickly brought her focus back to what was next to be done. She still did not feel comfortable with mourning her losses because there was too much to be done and there would be time well enough in the future for personal exploration.

The people began to make their way to her and as they greeted her, Haleth returned their greeting with only a nod of respect and courtesy, daring not to speak, wishing to pour all her capacity and nerve in what was she was about to say in her address.

"Esteemed and noble people of the Haladin," Haleth said, collecting her strength and focusing it to her voice from deep inner feeling of her heart as she continued, "We have all suffered among us, a great and terrible loss of kindred."

Heads bowed among the leaders as shoulders hunched in lowly memory of most recent events, as this group, comprised mostly of women, stood before Haleth in a broad crescent ring.

"It is the design of the gods that have brought us here and it is for us to continue onward in hope and without question of their motives, for we are but mortal," Haleth said with a pause before continuing, "Let us bid farewell to our dead at the eve of this day and send what remains into a glorious pillar of smoke and fire!"

Sentiments of agreement were mimicked throughout the small crowd as Haleth's booming voice carried zestfully over the concourse of leaders, silently honor-bound to her as the inherent chieftain of their tribe.

"This is the eve of proclaiming a new age for our people, and we must regard it and respect as such for gone are the days when only the Sons of Frey alone shall rule these tribes. In this spirit, let us be guided by the purpose of accomplishing this new custom and way of life, and let us remove first to Estolad after we have garnered what we can from our homes. In the Encampment, we have kin, and we can now heal the sundering between our peoples, gathering information of new settlements that could be had, for our time in the shadow of this Blue Mountain is over. Let the shadow and wall of that mountain never betray our defenses again."

The council began to talk and mumble excitedly among themselves as Haleth raised her arms halfway up, the pain in her wounded arm smarting and halting her progress to its highest peak.

"Let us not debate on this day, but meditate on such thoughts and instead devote this day to the honorable dead who must fly to the Great Halls above us," Haleth boomed, reminiscent of her father's dialect and then, uttered a blessing of the goddess, Freya, before the crowd scattered back towards the settlement.

"You may speak of Estolad and parted kinfolk too soon for their liking, sister mine," Jorhild murmured as she walked beside Haleth in pensive silence.

"It is set out for them to consider for it is no light decision and I would not keep my thoughts from those once they have been formed," Haleth replied coolly.

Jorhild smiled warily and said, "But are we not too far sundered from this other race?"

"Perhaps," Haleth replied smoothly, "But the shadow of this mountain reaches too far for my liking and those who will come with me are welcome. Those who would choose to stay, shall be free to do as they will."

Jorhild was silent and then spoke after a long moment, "Our numbers dwindle," she said, looking out over the settlement as they neared the outskirts.

"They do," Haleth replied as she waved her unwounded arm to dismiss her comment, "But the quality of those who survive remains as strong as ever."

Jorhild agreed with a warm, kindling light in her eyes, "So it does."

Haleth bade her farewell and returned with fatigue to her tent as Jorhild assured her that all would be prepared for the pyre that night.

As Haleth opened the tent flap she made her way to the cot and laid down upon the soft bed the elves had provided for her recovery, physically exhausted and mentally spent.

"You have missed breaking your fast, Lady Haleth," Caranthir said as Linval came in bearing another meal of bread and broth.

Haleth visibly grimaced and said, "I grow tired of bread and broth. Healer, is there not something more hearty I can consume that fits your strict regiment of recovery?"

Linval would have raised his eyebrows with surprise had he been inclined to a visible human reaction, but instead stated, "I will see what I can manage for your next meal."

Smiling with renewed verve at the mere prospect of something more sustaining, Haleth thanked him as he exited the tent, again leaving her alone with the Noldor prince.

"When I first beheld you upon your mattress this day only a few moments ago, I thought you exhausted, but I can see you have quickly rejuvenated yourself at the sight of my personal healer," Caranthir observed with growing mirth.

Haleth grunted in agreement, feeling more in command of herself after the motions and formality of the meeting earlier that morning, "So I have."

_I have thought men such simple creatures for far too long_, the Elf-lord mused to himself at the off-handed thought that encroached upon his brain.

"Would you reconsider my offer, lady," he said, a serious note to his tone.

Haleth sighed and looked at him intently, "I have been doing nothing but reconsidering your proposal all night. Alas, I fear, but the desire to escape the shadow of the Blue Mountain is far too great to contend with, and with such an overpowering and steadfast conviction to the thought, I must follow what my first instinct has directed me to do, my honorable Lord."

Caranthir smiled regretfully, "You must do as you will it, then, lady, but you must always know that my friendship stands until your dying day, should you ever want for it."

Haleth smiled, touched beyond measure as a simple tear slid down her cheek, "You have my friendship always, Lord Caranthir, and you will be regarded warmly in my thoughts for the rest of my days."

Caranthir had never experienced or viewed the workings of tenderness of humans in such a way and was moved to a melancholy state of bittersweet emotion in his undying heart. He wept inside, no tears betraying his sentiment, as Haleth rose from her bed and walked towards him.

She stood before him, motionless and still for a moment, and then suddenly to her and Caranthir's surprise, Haleth pulled him into a firm embrace. Not knowing how to respond to such human affection, Caranthir stood rigid for a moment before tentatively placing his arms around her and holding her firm, returning her embrace in the same way she had given it.

Haleth's head rested between his neck and chest, _in the arms of a god_, Haleth thought fleetingly, pulling away at the sudden realization and uncomfortable prickle of heat that moved throughout her body.

"Many thanks for your kindness and care," Haleth said with earnest sincerity, walking to the side table and removing the bread Linval had so kindly left for her as Caranthir stood for a moment in awe.

Quickly, the covering of the tent flap closed with a soft whisp and thud behind her as Caranthir stood in reflective thought outside the doorway before making his way to the commander of his garrison.

* * *

After a short rest that morning, Haleth returned later that afternoon to once again gather her energy before the burning of the dead and the feast that would follow, when to her surprise, she found an unexpected and extraordinary gift in her tent. Laid atop the soft layers of blankets covering her bed was a long silver blade, which was glowing with elvish script that seemed to harness an ancient and deadly power.

Haleth dared not to touch it, though her craving to handle the burnished blade was overpowering much of her rational thought and the desire to harness its power and make a long, sweeping strike at anything stationary in order to test its strength was near unbearable. Instead, she simply stared at it for long moments, moved beyond measure, not even hearing the tent cover open as Caranthir entered.

"A small token of goodwill which represents my protection and friendship to you, wherever you may roam," Caranthir said simply as he moved towards Haleth.

_A small token to you, my Lord Caranthir, and a great gift beyond repayment_, Haleth thought with humble embarrassment as she continued to eye the sword before she looked up at the Elf-lord who commanded a regal aura that engulfed the room.

"What you bestow is beyond any measure of value I can deem worthy of repayment," she whispered breathlessly in admiration.

"The blade is only worthy of the one who wields it and easily befits a woman of your courage and brave heart, Lady Haleth. May you recall me with fond memory whenever you use it and may the fierce fire of Fëanáro bring death upon those who wish to thwart you."

Haleth shivered at his last words and blinked, "What is Fëanáro?"

Caranthir hesitated for a moment, "He is my father. Fëanáro was given to him by my grandmother and means 'Spirit of Fire' for he was a great talent among our kind."

Haleth knew not to press anymore questions upon the Elf-lord and smiled sheepishly at him, feeling as though she had brought up something that pained him, though he carried on in an almost flawless fashion.

"There are supplies and food for you and your people, lady," Caranthir said as he moved close to her.

"Many thanks for all you have done for myself and my people, Lord Caranthir. Our lives would have been forfeit had you not arrived with your host. Surely, my life would have been lost, save for Linval," Haleth said with a sigh, regretting that they must part.

"You have his many blessings and mine as well, lady. We will make ready to depart by twilight and leave you to your own rites," Caranthir said with a respectful bow.

"May Freya look favorably upon your kindness to us, and keep you in her protection against all evil," Haleth said, raising her hand in her traditional stance, bestowing an ancient blessing.

Caranthir closed his eyes at the uninvited and unanticipated blessing from a foreign god he had never heard of during his many years of life. Even so, Haleth had touched upon his heart in that moment, unexpectedly. Unwillingly, his mind's eye was moved beyond Middle-earth to a place other than Valinor, which he did not know. Before he could comprehend any of the surroundings, they had disappeared entirely as he opened his eyes and looked upon her with newness.

The Lady Haleth stood before him, radiating some otherworldly glow that was mysterious to Caranthir, an arcane feeling that made him shiver with longing for knowledge and comfort of soul.

The Elf-lord moved quickly to embrace her in the fashion she had done earlier that day, desiring to communicate the affection to her she had shown him, so that she understood that she was held in his esteem. He held her then, this human woman of the Edain, comfortable and firm with mutual affection, adding only this new hunger for closeness that was like a fresh, striking disturbance of pain weighing heavy upon his heart.

The time had come for them to leave one another's presence, but they both lingered, enfold in each other's arms, uncontent to depart and uncontent to stay in longing silence.

Suddenly the tent flap flipped open and Jorhild walked in, talking casually with Linval as they both stopped in stunned silence. Haleth made to move abruptly, but Caranthir lingered, and turned back to look at Haleth, ignoring the intruders, sensing her unease but not experiencing her awkwardness at the interruption.

Jorhild's mouth was agape, and she did little to mask it while Linval stood in questioning silence, wondering at this strange, obviously human display of communication from his Lord to this woman of the Atani.

Linval quickly surmised that it was the custom of communication with these people, for he had viewed other Edain in the encampment holding each other in a similar stance. Still, he looked at Haleth, whose face had turned unnaturally pink and then to Jorhild, whose face was a similar shade, though darker.

Slightly worried and still wondering at the reaction of the women, he immediately moved to his table of medicines which he had left for Haleth to administer to herself after he had gone and searched for some antidote to cure this strange coloring of skin.

Finally, Linval came upon a slave that he had frequently used as a antidote for just about any sort of skin ailment and moved to Jorhild's face, holding up fingers full of the cream to administer on her face.

Jorhild looked at him in horror and sent him a look that would have stopped many a man dead in their tracks while Caranthir finally broke their embrace and looked to see what unrest there was in the atmosphere that generated from the direction of Jorhild and the most prized healer in his service.

Haleth began to laugh as she turned from Caranthir again to look at Jorhild and Linval, a relieved and long laughter that had too long been buried over the last weeks of turmoil and disorder. Tension left her body like a powerful wave, crashing upon a soft shore.

Caranthir and Linval looked at her, puzzled, as Jorhild glared darts of embarrassment, turning and stalking from the room.

The elves stood in utter and complete confusion at the opposing reactions they viewed from each women. Linval withdrew from the tent in exasperation and Haleth, gaining even breath, shook her head at Caranthir.

"I cannot answer the question I see behind your eyes," Haleth said jovially, "'Tis only the strangeness of human nature."

Caranthir's eyes twinkled at what seemed sincere happiness, glad to see his charge, even though she was a walking essence of complication and charm among any Atani women he had yet met, genuinely experiencing a moment he had not yet seen grace her exquisite features. _Had she but been born among the Eldar_, he thought with rueful mirth, _they would have been a pair to be reckoned with by any standard_.

* * *

From a grassy knoll overlooking the encampment of Haleth, the Elf-lord of the North, Caranthir Fëanorian, sat upon his majestic white steed, his dark features disappearing into the midnight blue of the dark sky as stars twinkled behind him in flickering radiance.

The people stood before the Lady Haleth, leader of the Second House of the Edain, with torches of fire that set flame below the open sky and stars of Varda. _What ceremony would these Secondborn practice_, Caranthir contemplated.

He could barely pick out her features, even with keen Elvish eyes, for she was almost as dark in countenance as he with equally fair skin, Caranthir realized. The unbidden thought brought more biting regret, gnawing at his heart, which had grown weary with foreign emotion. Another bond between them that would not endure time. A brief glimmer of companionship in a sea of endless ages upon this marred land.

Turning with an ache of discontent, Caranthir could little endure another look at that which would be vanquished to him throughout eternity. There would be no race of Atani in the land of Valinor, should he be ever blessed to return, which was in its own thought, a glimmer of a false promise that would never be recognized. The sons of Fëanor had not only turned their back on the Powers, but also snubbed them and then committed the most heinous of all sins against their kin.

_Over and above my personal pleasure_, the Elf-lord reasoned, _there is an ancient ritual here that should be known only between Eru and his Secondborn children_. _I have committed enough transgression against my Creator and the only gift allowable is more than enough, that her image and will shall be burned into my senses for eternity_.

Haleth's peripheral vision caught the movement, far away in the darkness, of the departure of her friend, _a worthy companion had he been of mortal blood_, Haleth mused with regret. Already, Haleth wondered at her own wisdom of not accepting such a kind and generous offer, but, shaking her head with small violent nods, she pushed the notion to a deep alcove of her thought, well out of obvious attention.

Taking a great, cleansing breath, Haleth stood in complete and utter stillness, her arms resting flat at her sides, no outward movement, with her eyes closed in pure meditation.

Ever slowly, she lifted her arms high, ignoring the pain in her sore arm, her face also raised in homage to the sky commanding in a strong voice, worthy of Haldad, "Light the fires, for under twilight, we consecrate the shells of those we love from ash to earth and from earth to wind. Carry this last fire of life on your wings, great wind, and lift them to their rightful home!"

After a few moments of reverent silence, Haleth opened her eyes, the powerful prayer said with bold request and a pool of mist, which now clouded her eyes.

The Haladin stood, a large circle around the great mass of remains stacked in unity, a mound of death, ravished by an enemy who had no respect for life of any kind. A weary despondency engulfed those of the Haladin left behind and moved many of them to issue forth flowing, ceaseless tears that ran down pale and weathered cheeks.

"To the Great Halls of Valhalla," Haleth said with a resounding cry as her shout was echoed among the small mass of people who had assembled for the ceremony. An errie incantation was chanted by the people, flowing across the earth following Haleth's statement, rising to its peak, as the flames grew higher and higher towards the sky.

Not a lone figure among them moved, lingering until the flame began to render back to its former height when the torches had first been laid to wood and flesh, bone and liquid.

The ceremony had worn on well into the night time hours before Haleth announced a time to feast and celebrate the journey of those who had passed on to the other plain of existence.

As Haleth made her way back to the campfires, still surrounded by tents left for the Haladin by the elves, she felt a meaty hand firmly grip her shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. Turning, she met the sharp and focused intense eyes of Beinir, the craftsman and smithy who had been a long-time friend of Haldad's family from many years before Haleth and Haldar had been born into the damaged world.

A far-reaching smile crossed Haleth's face immediately as she embraced him without hesitation. Gudrun had reported to Jorhild after the battle that he had lived, but he had been hard-pressed carrying out the wishes of Jorhild, on behalf of an unconscious Haleth.

Haleth yearned to ask him why he had not come to visit her, but remained quiet, fearing what his answer might evoke in his heart. She knew her father and Beinir had shared a brotherly bond, and did not want to face his emotion or what sadness it might awaken in her, for their was much yet to do and the time for continued mourning was not now.

No words did Beinir speak, as he blessed her and departed, lost in a small throng of people who passed onward towards a feast of elvish delights and fresh meat, hunted and skinned that day, roasting over open flames.

As appetizing as the smell of food was to her awakening senses, Haleth made her way to the meadow where the makeshift Oath-stone had been erected when Orcs had come upon them unawares.

The cold air brushed her skin, but she removed her clothing and laid flat upon the earth under the stratosphere of her goddess, protected by the circle of trees and under the open expanse of dimming sky as the first hint of dawn pushed through what remained of the night.

Meditating and focusing all her thought and will, Haleth prayed aloud to her guardian, the female deity who knew her destiny, "You have requested the blood offering of my father, and my brother, Great Mother Freya. Let our days now be blessed with fertility and strength to always defend ourselves and what is ours."

* * *

The next morning at the small encampment, the Haladin took turns approaching the mound and paying last respects to the recently departed and then spread dirt over the ashes and remains of bone, one by one, until the mound of ash became a mound of dark earth. The Haladin did this in an almost disturbing silence, having grown somewhat accustom to elvish ways. Only now, did the errie absence of fair voices raised in song as the Eldar went about daily tasks become unnerving.

After the hill was completely buried Haleth spoke, "Seek your homesteads and glean what you may, for your opportunity to remove to Estolad and our kin is drawing near. We will meet at this sacred mound and prepare to cross the river when the moon next shines new and full."

This statement was greeted with murmurs of both question and agreement throughout the crowd even though the other leaders had been given time to contemplate and give the idea consideration. Haleth would not force any to follow, but instead set the time and place to depart, should any want to accompany her on her journey from the reaching shadow of the mountains and painful memories.

"We are prepared for the path home," Jorhild said, coming to stand by her side.

Haleth turned to her with a strange look in her eyes Jorhild had not ever beheld in her.

"I will be taking a different path, sister mine," Haleth said firmly as she walked to one of the horses left to her by Caranthir, her bag of supplies already packed and loaded for her departure.

Jorhild looked at her in shock, her gaze questioning as Haleth rode fast, disappearing into the brightness of the sun that hovered above the Dwarf-road nearby, riding along it and the River Ascar, straight east, towards the furthest outpost of the village of Bryeth.

The beams of the sun had quickly banished the gloomy clouds that had been haunting them these last, fateful days as Haleth's black horse raced on, bidden to do all that she willed of him by his previous master, Caranthir Fëanorian, Elf-lord of Thargelion.

* * *

**Story Notations**

Of Caranthir Fëanorian. Admittedly, I do not know whether I have the last name correct, but it is as close as seems to be provided in what I have found. It is highly conceivable that I overlooked something that would have given a more clear answer. Obviously, I do not write much on elves and am less familiar, or experienced, with their characters and the proper uses of their last names. If you can swear on your life "Fëanorian" is used incorrectly, please let me know and provide the correct citation point for me to reference, so that I may present it correctly.

On Viking Funeral Rites. It should be noted, that the ritual of funeral pyres and then the burial of the remains such as bone, ash, etc., is more specific to practices in Sweden and further east. After the burning, what was left would be buried in a clay pot, or some sort of container, beneath a mound of earth. This was noted of as an old custom. The reason I note it in this story, is because most of the ritual and traditions have mostly been specific to Norway and Iceland and I did not want anyone to be confused as to specific origin.

Haleth's gift of battle-ax to Jorhild, for Haldan, is one of slight deviation as well, as you may recall from an earlier chapter where Beinir crafts a knife for Haleth since her mother's was buried with her, in accordance to custom. This is a more significant sign of changing times and rule representing Haleth's independent thinking in the early stages of her leadership. It is highly sentimental deviation too. She is motivated by emotion, rather than a strict adherence to custom, a sure sign of a changing society where she justifies things to herself in order to validate them in her own mind as she begins her task of ruling those who remain, I suspect.

My reason for this deviation from what the story has been based on thus far, relating mostly to Norway and Iceland is merely a subtle and gradual sign of changing times for Haleth's Folk. They are moving from a male-dominated society to a female-dominated society of priestess warriors, who it the beginnings of what is meant to become the reference in Tolkien's _Unfinished Tales_, "...for their cheiftainess Haleth was a renowned Amazon with a picked bodyguard of women."

_Now_, back to humans - no more elves this story, which is both a relief and a sorrow for me. I will miss writing Caranthir because he really turned out to be an interesting character for Haleth to meet, but I am at the same time relieved he is no longer a part of the continuing story. Poor Haleth has enough to explore and accomplish without his commanding, immortal presence! ;-)

* * *

Disclaimer:

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	14. XIV SACRED ASH

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe

* * *

_

_Chapter XIV_

**SACRED ASH

* * *

**

The burning rays of the sun had dried up most of the muck created by the steady downpour of rain that had been blanketing the earth, as of late, when Haleth rode into the ruins of Bryeth.

Great mounds of ash and earth enclosed the settlement in order to keep evil spirits at bay in an aim to protect this once prominent village that used to be brimming with the serenity and warmth of nature's welcome. These small hills of doom paid tribute to their defenders, compounded by the rain, which had now been given time to be dried by the continuous intensity of the sun.

Haleth scanned the area, weary from days of travel, as she dismounted her horse, a gift from the Elf-lord Caranthir. Her heart was open and her sentiment matching the exhausted state of her body as she gave herself over to the action of letting her guard down, accepting emotion from the hidden places of her soul.

"It seems you have formed new and powerful friendships, beloved," a kindly voice whispered with enticing charm, swept to her ears upon the reaches of a gentle current of warm wind.

Haleth's frame grew immediately taut as she stood frozen, her skin stretching, flesh reaching over her bones and vitality that felt translucent and bare. The rustling of this low, hushed tone was from a lover she had known and recognized in both life and death, a voice that had always solicited raw nerve and feeling, always bared for viewing, wanted or not.

"To what purpose can you appear before me unbidden," Haleth questioned aloud, her reaction of surprise turning to a bout of small fear at having not initiated the call or been the originator who could control the apparition.

There was a deep chuckle as the form of Bryeth then materialized before her and nodded to her horse and then settled his gaze upon her sheathed sword before he spoke.

"This is something I cannot answer for lack of knowledge," he said, standing quietly before her as he added suddenly, "First, to business - I am to bring a message that may bring you much anger and pain."

Haleth's eyes widened into pools of an opaque fog, showing slight alarm and trepidation as she commanded, "Then speak your message and have done with it."

Bryeth smiled at the change in her and the powerful leader she was forced to become due to unwanted circumstance, but his face quickly changed to a grim look of regret and sadness.

"Come," Bryeth spoke, holding his arm out to her in a silent, dictating invitation which left little room for even polite denial, "Let us go and sit near the mound of ash where my funeral pyre once stood."

Haleth moved rigidly with an automatic capacity, her heart wanting for her body to either remain where it stood, or take flight and proceed to Canute. The temptation and magnetic feeling of wanting she felt when taking in the raven black locks of Bryeth's long, thick hair would not be refused in passion, nor in a calm state of observation.

The two loyal followers of the Old Faith, one mortal and one made immortal through valiant death, sat for a long while in silence as the morning waned towards mid-day. The grass near the mound was vibrant and alive, the picture of fertile growth and vitality as Haleth let her fingers caress the long strands, feeling the coarse, silk-like texture.

Bryeth, with brown eyes radiating compassion, watched her carefully, finally speaking, "It is in this very spot that I stood against my last Orc."

Haleth inhaled the cool, crisp air through her nose and exhaled slowly in turn, bracing herself for further information while preparing herself in attaining a calm, sober defense.

"My spirit was moved with desperation in the heat of battle to look at yonder hilltop over there," Bryeth continued, pointing to the knoll that stood protruding from the earth to the north.

Haleth turned to follow the direction he indicated and then turned, looking expectantly at him to continue his story.

"It is on that knoll where I saw Lord Tunni, sitting tall in a flowing crimson mantle and hardened armor, shining in reflection at the sun's unwavering rays and atop one of his massive war-horses," Bryeth said slowly before he paused in his tale.

Haleth furrowed her eyebrows in anger before Bryeth continued, turning her face to his with hardened, cold hands, and meeting her direct gaze, "My heart sang with joy at his normally repulsing sight."

Haleth concentrated pointedly on his words as the few braids, which framed his face swung away from mingling with his long locks of hair. She fervently willed her mind and heart to process his words with the courageous acceptance and with the clarity of a powerless will to change what is past before he continued.

"He sat, smiling in what seemed an invisible haze of twisted happiness, unmoving and unwilling to lend any aid," Bryeth said flatly, his own eyes blazing like dark, hot copper set to the flame in a raging fire.

Her mouth dropped in horror, for it was Lord Tunni himself who sat upon his heavy war-horse, dressed for battle and smiling with treacherous malice down at Bryeth as the latter fell, caught unaware in his shock and hacked down by the filth of an Orc warrior.

She snapped her eyes shut, pressing her fingers to her eyelids, desperately wanting the image to disappear, but then opened them wide again as anger replaced the feeling of fear and mild wrath she had felt for Tunni these long months. With this sentiment strong in her heart, she vowed to curse more than his manhood and send it hurling with a good, swift kick into the depths of his body, but alas, her brain commanded her to acknowledge the realism that he was no longer of Midgard. There was no way to physically pain Lord Tunni, but Haleth vowed there must be some way which they could extract warranted revenge.

_No_, she thought, _this betrayal warranted more than that sort of simple, interim punishment - it warranted something prolonged and which could be applied beyond the end of time._ This sinister evil even surpassed that which he had done during the spring rituals, when he defiled her pride, but his outlandish treason had brought her world crashing down and admonished the loyalty which should have been steadfast between their people.

The release death had brought had not been a virtuous or just enough punishment for a man like Lord Tunni, a corrupt, despicable traitor who had done all but bring upon Bryeth the last death-blow in battle. Lord Tunni had not paid a dear enough price, Haleth thought with an unbridled frenzy of madness as she reflecting in a fleeting moment on their mutual disrespect for one another and their eventual endearing friendship. _Betrayed on all levels of heart and mind_, she thought ruefully.

_He would have to pay a high price to her for his transgressions against the Old Faith as well as her loss of the family and happiness she would have surely had with Lord Bryeth_.

"You could pursue him with me to the boundless abyss of time, if I were to leave Midgard now, could you not," Haleth finally said in a low, malicious voice filled with hate and fury, as she began to unwittingly struggle out of Bryeth's grasp which still held firmly to her face.

"You must hold yourself with restrain, firm against this vendetta that begins to take hold of your mind and trust to Frey to punish those who betray the Higher Laws," Bryeth finally said, resigned, but still holding her face firm between his lean hands, emitting brawn beyond all Haleth had seen. "I recognize your feeling of anger, but it is not your place to seek revenge, as you would will it - it is mine to have - and I faithfully give my revenge over to the gods. Do you not know that this is the most important of reasons as to why you were so punished when you arrived at Canute, seeking this memory that belongs to me?"

Haleth thought for a long while and nodded her acceptance, Bryeth's grasp loosening a bit, "Is there still not some way deemed right by the High Laws that you could accompany me on this journey, beside residing in the billowing smoke of my memory?"

"I cannot now leave this place, even for you, beloved, for what Freya bestowed at the Altar of Haldad was no trivial blessing of forgiveness for your wrongs," he said warily. "Let us leave this business to the gods of the Old Faith and make good use of my mortal body, mating as we should have done long ago, flesh upon flesh," Bryeth said swiftly, moving a dismissive hand in the air.

Haleth could not direct herself to move or consider logic, instinctively thinking about faraway consequences if there were to be rules to be broken by this tryst, but the thought was brief and swiftly disappeared, replaced, turning to boundless desire. She did not know or care if there were to be any repercussion that may result from this act, for all thought faded at the touch of Bryeth's eager and fervid attentions.

Sensations of desirous lust and longing careened out of her perception as the heat of his lips upon her flesh fueled a deep inferno, a furnace of overwhelming passion, craving, and yearning for his touch which burned an invisible brand, a permanent mark of mutual ownership seared upon her essence.

"We are one for all time, and you will know me again like this moment, though not in this world," Bryeth murmured in a deep growl of primitive hunger as he hurriedly removed her clothing. "Let us mate, so that my soul may be with you always as you walk the paths of Midgard. Our connection in flesh must be consummated while we have this opportunity, or your spirit may not recognize me when you depart this marred middle world."

A transitory thought occurred to Haleth that she voiced to Bryeth without restrain, "Will my body not be stripped of the ability to bring forth life to this world then, committing such an act of rebellion in the face of the gods, upon this land for purposes other than fertility. For surely, my lord, no life could come from this union, for you are now of the spirit world, and then what can be the purpose of such and act?"

Bryeth did not hesitate for an instant, his words caressing her hearing like smooth, thick, languid honey, "I do not possess that knowledge, but is it not worth risking in order to be bound together in the most ancient of rites for all of eternity? The seed of life, should it be planted, can be the beginning for us in another plain of time, the representation of a life for us that can come, if not a child to be brought to this place."

Haleth faltered in the midst of the scorching temptation Bryeth presenting, his fingertips and mouth exploring her body with a fierce energy that would not be denied, _have I not been dealt with unjustly as of late and had to already bear an unfair burden? It this not my right to claim what I have been robbed of by ill fortune_? A dangerous warning shouted alarm at her from deep within, _you have incurred the wrath of Freya once before and were graciously redeemed, do not commit such folly again_! _What of a child of her own, to accompany her and inherit the place of chieftain among her people - maybe even a female child to carry on the ancient rites of Freya and keep the Old Way alive in this changing world_.

"Let us have this moment, love," Bryeth pressed, moving his face back up to hers so that they were nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye, "And in later days, choose a worthy priest as your consort from Canute to continue your strong line, if you so desire an heir. My beloved Haleth, the Age of the Sons of Frey is over, as you well know, and the Age of Freya is being born anew in the tribe you now command. You will surely be sworn in ceremony The Oath at the Oath-stone upon your return, for many of the Sons of Frey from the tribes now dwell in the Great Hall."

"I do not know this for certain, but I feel it shall be as you now say," Haleth said with a pique of overwhelming irritation as her senses gave way to an invasion of sweltering, carnal appetite she dared not prohibit.

"Then let you begin this New Age with this one memory and eternal bonding instead of the anger and pain, the death and sorrow brought to you for those now lost to Midgard," Bryeth entreated passionately.

Caution thrown to the wind, Haleth closed her eyes to savor the sensation of his mouth on hers, moist and succulent, as he leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips, tongues tangled in a mutual assault of tangled desire.

"Your hands had to be clean of his blood, Haleth, you must surely understand this," Bryeth murmured in the secret hours of dusk thrusting itself onto the palate of horizon once belonging to the blistering sun, after long, gratifying hours of lovemaking. As a foggy mist rose from the earth and encompassed the two, Bryeth stood and walked away, fading into the change of day.

Haleth kneeled at the foot of the mound, wondering if what had happened that day was real, and not some delusion of tiresome and fatigued travel. Her thoughts drifted as she cupped a handful of ash in her hand and then moved her free hand downward to her thighs, mixing the sacred ash of the burial mound with the scented, mingled juices of their passionate encounter before walking to the ruins of Bryeth's homestead.

The skáli of Bryeth lay in ruins of stone and ash, broken bits of clay containers askew on the ground, meaningful relics strewn in disarray, an abstract melody of discord. Searching through the wreckage of debris for well nigh an hour in the darkness under a blanket of burning stars, Haleth found what she sought in her find of a small, unbroken jar.

Miniscule and easily hidden and with the blessing of Freya, overlooked in its unimportance, Haleth examined the jar, noting the small crack the made a thin fissure along the containers lid.

Smiling at the sweet memory of Bryeth and aching with sadness, Haleth poured the mixture of ash and the sticky, solid element of dried liquid into the earthen container made of terra cotta porcelain.

This was the only physical presence of Bryeth she could always hold near for security during the rest of her stay upon Middle-earth, for blessing, and for memory of a mating ritual dating back to the beginning of time. There was no hope for a traditional, earthly union with him. All that remained was to protect the people she was reluctantly entrusted with since her father and brother's death.

Haleth walked slowly, returning to the spot of Bryeth's death, were she had found the truth of his demise and the promise of passion and an eternal bond that even the gods could not deny or put asunder.

She laid down on the earth, its temperature cooling and crisp as she looked skyward at the numerous twinkling lights and saw a sight that amazed and reassured her of her doubts regarding her weakened will earlier that day, giving into a unique temptation, a gift.

From the darkened curtain of sky shot long beams of milky light, where on the twinkling of stars hung suspended in time and space.

The moon sleeps the slumber of the dead, the once born.

_Where do these great, stretching beams of brilliance originate, bursting forth from nothingness, a great void, to grace mortal eyes_, Haleth thought with wondrous astonishment.

_Is it one of Freya's many admirers, forgotten with inattention and making his presence known in some prorogued overture to attract her attention through the night sky_?

There is mysterious wonderment in this reflection where daylight passes through the veil of night, assisted by the polar ice cap of the great and majestic northland.

Haleth continued to look upward in bewilderment, a small sense of fear trying to gain a hold on her soul as she held it resolutely at bay.

These astounding rays of light streaking across the sky were indeed emanating from the north.

Haleth's stomach began to rumble with warning, her last meal having been in the morning when she broke her fast in one of the many stretches of woodlands that stood near the Dwarf-road before she rode the remaining distance to Bryeth.

Having eaten the rest of her rations, Haleth laid down under the protective, outstretched branches of trees that circled the village and closed her eyes, reliving in memory her coupling with Bryeth earlier that day as the cold of night began to make her teeth begin to chatter and her skin begin to raise its hackles in rebellion.

Gathering her cloak and wrapping it around her, she gave her mind over to sleep. Haleth's thought drifted into a fine, gray mist where bright flashes of vision appeared before her of mysterious creatures she had never before set eyes upon in this life. These creatures floated in her dreams, broad shouldered and black as the darkest night with eyes as dark as mined coal set upon a wide face.

The most prominent thought amongst this myriad of apparitions, was the sight of an unknown, dark-haired man with strange, short cut hair and penetrating green eyes, garbed in the priestly robes of Frey, moving as if he willed to haunt her dreams.

In a sudden flash of light, she could see herself riding north, towards Canute as the mysterious beams of light she had witnessed earlier lead her onward, where she felt as if they were pointing to the sacred, hidden halls of Valhalla, or rather to a new horizon, a new order and beginning for their tribe on Middle-earth.

If she awoke and left at this very moment, she could ride under the guidance of the Northern Lights, hooves clomping against unyielding earth, before the cresting brilliance of dawn forced her to stir from a fitful sleep.

There was an unknown movement in the darkness as Haleth mounted her horse and galloped to Canute, a hidden sanctuary against all manner of creatures, preserved by the ancient magic of the gods.

Haleth was haunted by a spirit that had lost all his tangible form, and lived only in her memory, and fully unable to protect her in life. The goddess, in her wisdom, would deem no man worthy to dictate any vision to her daughters who still lived upon the warring world below the heavens, even if such a man was chosen willingly by one of her priestesses.

_No_, Haleth thought, _these visions and encouragement to be lead by this new, magnificent light was not bestowed to her freed mind by Bryeth, but by servants of the goddess, if not the goddess herself_. The corporeal spirit of Bryeth would remain to haunt his village when not required in the Great Halls that resided in the heavens, which was the way the High Laws were meant to be applied.

Disclaimer:

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


	15. XV SOCIETY OF THE SEERESS

**THE HALADIN**

_by Archaic Scribe

* * *

_

_Chapter XV_

**SOCIETY OF THE SEERESS

* * *

**

"It is time you know more of the Ancient Ones, the Makers who came before Frey and Freya, dear child," Canute said as he lead Haleth to the field where she had previously sought the memory of Bryeth and gained the punishment of Freya.

They sat in silence for a long, long while before Canute spoke, under a warm morning sun, which had driven away the fleeting kiss of the frost giants. Yet still, the chill breath of the wind would not be abated so easily and feel out of the control of the blazing yellow orb which now hung with magnificent victory in the sky.

"This is one of the mysteries that you will not recall from lessons during past years spent in this village, for it is a powerful knowledge not to be shared in the common talk of those who live but one life," Canute said, nodding his head, as if affirming the fact to himself.

"There are women among the priestesses that were educated in this very village that walk the far lands as respected seeresses, but their mother remains here and she is named Heith," Canute said slowly before he continued, "There is one among us, my child, who is blessed by the very hand of those of even more import than the goddess Freya."

Haleth was silent, listening intently to the prophet's next words with careful attention and slight shock.

"She is Heith, and she has the blessing of the Norns. She sees the visions allowed to her by Urth, Verthandi and even Skuld, and Heith will be at your hand for the rest of your days on Midgard," he said, now pausing for a moment before continuing.

"Heith must accompany you on your future journey, for it has been ordained by powers beyond human reckoning. You can not possess this gift of Sight any longer, dear child, for the punishment given by the gods is absolute - you know of what I speak. You are no longer pure in the eyes of Freya, but it is the Norns who determine the laws and fates of men. You have bonded with a soul no longer of your own world, an act not bearing the blessing of any gods, but the independent willfulness of those who were not to choose their own fate," Canute said dramatically as he fixed his gaze upon Haleth.

"Alas, my child, what Lord Bryeth and you committed was indeed, an act of choosing your own fate, knowingly breaking the High Laws set by the goddess, and you are lucky to be here now. Know this, you will suffer for it for the rest of your days upon the earth and perhaps again upon your departure from this Midgard," Canute said with a heavy, regretful sigh.

Heith had already made him aware of Haleth's latest transgression and the Norns, Urth, Verthandi and Skuld had deemed to Freya that this priestess could not again be allowed any future visions, for a gift would not be reward for a willful sin. Haleth would be bound for a future full of personal sacrifice and punishment for both her and Bryeth had known somewhere, deep down in their core reckoning that what they willed was against the High Laws of the gods. Certainly Haleth, for she had spoken that very question aloud, and the gods and goddesses had been listening.

Haleth was Canute's child in many ways, as were all who had studied with him the hidden arts of his scaldcraft. It was all that was within his reach to give Heith to her as a protector and visionary. He knew his days on Middle-earth would cease soon, and he choose to live them out in his own land, under his own rule, for he knew the Sons of Frey would drift into mist and memory. The Daughters of Freya would have a short glimmer of time and quickly be engulfed by mist, though their legend would live on for all of time.

Canute possessed his own gifts of vision, though not as powerful as those of any women for the women of the tribes were held sacred and blessed by the goddess Frey and more importantly, by the three goddesses who dwelled under the Yggdrasil, the great ash tree of the nine worlds.

"You have your life, child, and have been marked for leadership among your people, and the goddess would not have you deviate again from your path, even given your blatant willfulness," Canute said with a smile, desiring to softened his words and restrain anything that would be heard as harsh to Haleth's ears.

Haleth's face was set as hard as stone as Canute looked at her, gauging her response, when finally, she dropped her head with regret and acceptance.

"Be it as it is willed by the goddesses," Haleth said, rising from her spot on the ground and nodding at Canute before she turned and walked back to the village.

* * *

The afternoon began to wane as Haleth made to return to her chambers after meeting with a few of the priestesses she knew that still remained as divine servants to Canute. The words of Canute and what she had done with Bryeth loomed heavy on her mind and even the pleasurable experiences of the steamy bath houses and kindred company with long missed friends had not completely left her mind and heart free to soar with gladness.

"This is your fate to accept what the goddesses have decreed, so sleep you out of doors, under the cover of night in yonder meadow and cleanse yourself of sin and make sacrifices, for there is naught you may do to absolve yourself," a voice said from the doorway of the Great Hall of Canute.

Haleth turned with consternation, feeling the sensation of every hair on her body standing up with bewildered attention, as if a mysterious spell had been cast upon her flesh.

The old women before her stood in a cloak of black, trimmed with a swirling, violet tapestry design around the hems of material, her silver-like hair long and unbraided. The high priestess stood substantially taller than Haleth, and taller, Haleth could see, than most men did who made up all of the scattered tribes.

"I am Heith," she said in a transcendental whisper.

Haleth looked at the elder women with unabashed reverence thinking instantly, _it could be no other, after all_.

Heith's mantle was thrown behind her narrow shoulders, silver hair cascading down her back and fastened together about her slender throat with a strap adorned with rare gemstones. Her cape became a flowing cloth of billowing material draped down her back, to display nicely toned arms encircled by arm rings of gold set with more precious jewels.

Her necklace was made of glass beads, their reflections when light was cast upon them a dancing array of translucent amber. Her stave was held upright in her hand, the gnarled nub swelling and cresting the top, like a radiant being unto itself, regal and magnificent atop twisted wood. Between the gnarled, contorted layers of wood that crowned the staff's top, brass adorned the grooves between the twisted wood, set with a brilliant array of stones in red, orange, yellow, emerald green, sky blue, indigo and violet. Around Heith's sparse waist was a pouch which was fastened by charm amulets on metal links, binding the chain that draped around her midsection.

Haleth nodded her acceptance and made her way to the meadow without hesitation.

* * *

After the ritual of sacrifice and cleansing similar to that she had performed in Haldad when she had first seen Bryeth's spirit, and a dreamless night of sleep, Haleth departed with Heith and a large party of priest and priestesses from Canute.

A new epoch was upon them.

Haleth ordered messengers and scouts to comb the lands for any of the Haladin who had fled into the forest before the Orc came upon them or who had traveled back to their ravaged homesteads to survey what remained and gather what the could salvage from blackened ruins and cinder. They would meet at Mulco and leave for Estolad shortly afterwards and whoever would come was welcome. Whoever choose to stay could freely do so, but Haleth had made it clear to all she could on whatever occasion presented itself that future safety lay in dwelling close to the region of Canute.

As they began to leave the enchanted realm of Canute with most of the priestesses and a small amount of priests who had once called the protected village their home.

Haleth opened her mouth as if to speak before Heith smiled and nodded, as if in approval to some unannounced order or silent conversation, "Let us continue the rest of this journey in silence while you contemplate the responsibility of official, full leadership before you go in willingness to the Oath-stone at Mulco. After such, many challenges await you in Estolad and beyond."

"Here," Heith said after a long silence, "I shall tell you the true story of creation, so that you may learn another of the mysteries not taught among the commoners."

Haleth listened with attentive fascination as Heith recounted a story of ancient gods and goddesses, of giants, dwarves and even elves.

After this last description, Heith paused and smiled as Heith continued her story after sensing Haleth's emotion, "I have seen you severely wounded and brought to health by the blessing of the álfar, Lady Haleth. I have seen the gifts one of the Princes of the Noldor would bestow upon you, including the one you ride. Think you not that it was merely a stroke of good luck that your messenger made it to this particular lord's dwelling and that he came initially out of the goodness of his heart?"

Haleth thought quietly in reflective silence and astonishment, _had Caranthir only been a nature spirit sent for her protection and benefit, a bearer of tangible gifts with an army of nature spirits at his command_? _This could not be their power any longer, not in these times_, Haleth thought to herself with curious and unnerving perplexity. _Had Heith had a hand in convincing him, an Elven-lord known for his solitude and reluctance to know humans_? _Did Heith hold the power to interfere on the Norns behalf, to move such a powerful immortal being such as Caranthir, himself, as he was, so much as one of the gods to her vision, thought and heart_? Haleth felt the long strands of mane from her horse that wove its way through her fingers as the lengthy hairs began to shake violently in her hands.

"You must surely know you were meant to accomplish great things in this life," Heith stated matter-of-factly, a calm air to the tone she projected now to Haleth, as if physically caressing her to comfort. "With Noss for a mother and Haldad for your father, a rare miracle at even having the bond of a twin brother - think, my child, on the similarities that may hold to Frey's daughter and the story of Frey and Freya, twins themselves at that. Do you believe that that is only a coincidence as well, Lady Haleth - do you not see the possibilities in this situation, in your lineage? You are a true descendant of Freya - powerful in mind and spirit when awoken from self-doubt and her very blood flows in you, strong and vibrant. Would you betray all that lies ahead to entertain your own personal desires."

Haleth grasped blindly at the meaning of all the information the Heith was expressing aloud, hidden and overwhelming her senses and intellect. Her head began to ache with the various scenarios that slammed brutally around in her skull, bringing about a physical pain that was intense and nearly unbearable.

"We are one day and one night from Mulco, so let us make rest here," Haleth said finally, shaking the fog of cobwebs from her brain as Heith smiled knowingly to herself, admiring Haleth's command of control more and more as the hours wore on into days.

"Aye, lady, rest yourself while you may, for Mulco will hold both mighty ceremony and feasting with little of rest before we must depart with haste to Estolad," Heith commented as they veered their horses off to the left of the path where a peaceful, serene meadow awaited.

As Haleth and Heith finished their meal, they adjourned to lay near one another under the night's sky to rest under a cover of stars and warm, animal fur blankets.

As they gazed up at the glistening stars set against a clear sky, Heith spoke, guessing at Haleth's thoughts, "The race of the álfar are not so intimidating after you would know them."

Haleth immediately felt defensive and wished with intensity for a shield against the elder woman's strength of insightfulness, as if Heith had surmised one of her darkest and most veiled desires.

"Have you, Haleth, never wondered at the feeling of that special and unique bond between Caranthir and yourself," Heith said with a silky voice of a weaver at her loom. "I say this," Heith said with bona fide kindness as she turned to face Haleth, "to tell you of more elves in your future, Lady, for we shall never speak of these visions again. It is your destiny to meet the cousin of Caranthir, though estranged they are, I can say with most certainty and without thwarting any future decisions you must make for yourself. What you must find of importance in what I say, is that you are of a powerful line, you know in your heart of hearts that the álfar-lord felt your power as you felt his. You must also know that the álfar do not give such blessed gifts of defense lightly, nor would they normally send with you a companion, animal form though it is, a friend to accompany you wherever you may roam. Though kindred and independent spirits in solitude, the álfar-lord was touched in places he knew not -this is something I know you must have sensed or soon sensed when given time to retouch the memory at length - places he did not realize a human being could touch him. There is a special bond you share. He is your nature spirit, not only your protector, but also the essence of the forest itself. He will not embrace this, so he hides himself in the dark abyss of Lake Helevorn, surrounded by protective mountains, and only little amounts of the pine forests, a touch of what the power of his true calling would have him do. He cannot bear to be near the forest too long, for it awakens a longing in him which he cannot deny and would tempt him to forsake an terrible Oath made in blinding folly, which will bring about his ruin - and so, he can only protect you from afar - though he does not comprehend the meaning of his desire to protect you."

Haleth tried to sort through the taxing amount of information Heith had just spoken, but dared not analyze it too carefully at the exact moment. Instead, she welcomed the disconsolation, the feeling of despair that washed over her with Heith's last comment, mingled with sorrow for Bryeth. Haleth longed to ask Heith about the Oath, but dared not for reasons she could not herself comprehend, but little did Haleth know, her question would be answered without it having to be asked.

Instead, Haleth absently began to caress the bear that was draped around her neck, a wooden bear, a token from Beinir for good luck against all manner of things evil. As her thoughts drifted to the forest, she thought of Caranthir and her mother as her other hand moved to trace the emerald that was encrusted in the dagger that was fashioned after her mother's knife.

Her mind racing with ricocheting thoughts of disorder and confusion, she moved her thought to the mixture of ash and love held securely at her defined torso. A fleeting thought of Haldad and Haldar flashed before her mind's eye before she firmly pushed it away, the pain to overwhelming, too great to bear under all these new insights share with her by Heith.

"This álfar-lord, Caranthir the Dark, thinks of Lady Haleth as a mysterious, enticing women - brave, courageous, in need of protection - someone worthy of his attentions. When he reaches his Halls of Reckoning, Mandos, I think it is in their tongue," Heith said thinking for a moment and then nodding her head in affirmation, "He will know your true spirit, but only after much suffering for his transgression. He will suffer as Lord Tunni now does..."

_Lord Tunni!_ _Caranthir!_

Her mind screamed with embroiled madness at Heith's last remark, and her insides fought to burst at the contained rage held at bay, searching for an outlet, a safe haven in which to explode.

Haleth was astounded, for she had not ever dreamed hearing such overwhelming information, and most especially after she had broken a High Law.

_What exactly was Heith saying about Lord Tunni and the Elf-lord_? Haleth had a prowling suspicion that there was a comparison her stubborn ire would not acknowledge while her heartstrings pulled at her weakness for both, man and elf alike.

"You must know, my dear child," Heith said with motherly affection, "That the immortals of Midgard do not know the truths of our race, for they believe humankind live but once."

Haleth shivered under her warm and safe feel of the coverlet, as if she was about to be transported to a plain beyond her understanding. Dismissing the thought, her mind saved her from insanity and clarified the realistic moment of truth - she would have no more visions, no apparitions of any sort. She was banned from practicing the mysteries of true, deeply understood and appreciated enlightenment. What she saw after her coupling with Bryeth were only the last lingering affects of her powers, the last of her bond slipping away into a fevered flash of information.

Heith touched her aged hand to Haleth's forehead and spoke words of blessing before she said, "Child, you shall live out your days of punishment on this Midgard, and you will suffer for your willfulness, but be assured that you will have peace beyond for Caranthir and Bryeth shall be one to you in the next life. Be dutiful and make your sacrifices to Freya and it will not be forgotten, but absolved after your penitence in this world. Your end lies in the Forest of Brethil where we will gain a new ally in our fight against the creatures of the underworld of darkness that mar this land with needless, senseless death."

Haleth was overwhelmed with emotion and thought but spoke with firm resolve, "We will never be put upon unawares or will any women, man or child be untrained in warfare after the devastation we have suffered."

Heith gently stroked her hair, calming her with the secret balm of the essence that was of a High Matriarch, spinning a web of calm that surrounded Haleth as she fell into an exhausted and deep, dreamless sleep.

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_**THE FOLK OF HALETH**_

_**An Epilogue**_

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Oaths of allegiance were sworn to Haleth on the sacred Oath-stone at Mulco, the last time Haleth would ever be upon the soil of Thargelion, the realm of the Elf-lord, Caranthir, though his presence never faltered for she was reminded of him everytime she rode her horse or drew her sword.

However, the words of Heith haunted her thoughts, but the Seeress never spoke of him again and Haleth had relented on every asking any further information on Caranthir, Bryeth or Tunni. It was not her right any longer, nor her will.

In the days to come, she would use her elven blade more than she would have dared dream possible, even in her wildest and rarest of dreams - all that haunted her mind during sleepful hours were memories. However, with the help of her intuitive horse, blessed sword and the Seeress and party of priest and priestesses who accompanied her through the dangerous roads from Estolad to Brethil.

No easy journey, this, but after they arrived in Brethil, with the added help of the Drúedain, the New Order of Haleth made their way to their new home, their new legacy.

They became renown in their fighting skills, where even the Orc dare not tread upon their secret lands acquired for them with the assistance of Finrod Felagund, lover of men and cousin to Caranthir Fëanorion, friend of Haleth.

They lived for many years the way of life they desired until, at last, Haleth gave way to the demand for her presence in the Great Halls of those that departed Middle-earth before her.

The Folk of Haleth would then be ruled by Haldan, son of her brother Haldar, who died valiantly in battle with Haldar, mighty chieftain of the Haladin.

_**Avsluttet, Ferdig, Fullbrakt.**_

_**Finished.**_

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Author's Note:

Firstly, thank you to all of those who have been reviewing and feeding my muse. This story got a bit longer than I had planned in my outline, and as I am sure with most stories, there are struggles, writer's block and the challenge of balancing the daily responsibilities and requirements of life against the driving force that possesses one to express and tell a tale. This story was no exception.

Now! Time to catch-up on the fanfiction reading list I have going!

This last chapter was specifically meant to meet an explanation of things you may have been wondering about, or rather, what poor Haleth has been mystified about during certain situations in the story...implied explanations to secrets may be a better way to say this.

There is some information that is provided to us by Tolkien and that is well.

However, there are some things I also purposefully have not explained. Your imagination is your own and I want you to feel free to use it with this story and draw your own conclusions about motivations and situations.

The only real concern I felt necessary for Haleth to know was the implication of how Lord Tunni and Lord Caranthir share a certain sin, kinslaying. (In theory, which is good enough in the eyes of the High Laws, Lord Tunni was just as guilty of killing Bryeth as if he had cut him down by his own sword. Not lending aid to kin is inexcusable in the eyes of the Haladin). ;-)

Also, poor Haleth - she has been through a lot already hasn't she? I thought it would be nice for her to know how Caranthir, a powerful elf-lord felt about her and what his true meaning was, as interpreted by the Seeress and Powers that Be. Eventually, I think it will give her a great confidence boost later on in her travels and dealings with Finrod and her forward message later to Elu Thingol. She needs to have the confidence to say it with conviction, without any flinching or intimidation after her encounter with Caranthir. I'd like to think this knowledge from the Seeress gives her the power in that regard.

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Next, to the data!

The Makers referenced are the Norns.

Álfar - elves. In Scandinavia, most álfar, or elves, were thought of as one of the various nature spirits who they would sometimes give sacrifices to during early references to them in mainland Scandinavia.

Noss was one of the two daughters of Frey listed in the Heimskringla, for which it was said, all things costly and beautiful were named.

My inspiration for the description of the Seeress, Heith, was referenced from "The Sagas of Icelanders," specifically, a story called, "Eirik the Red's Saga," which was translated by Keneva Kunz in a collection of sagas printed by Penguin Books.

The colors on her staff are representations of Chakras (used in yoga).

The representations are as follows:

Red represents root and implies security. The element associated with red is earth.

Orange represents sacral and its theme is creativity and sexuality. Its element is water.

Yellow is the solar plexus, representative of self-esteem. Its element is fire.

Emerald green; heart, love, air.

Sky blue; throat, communication and self-expression, represented by sound.

Indigo; third eye of sight, intuition, light.

Violet; crown, enlightenment, thought.

My thought in incorporating the basis for yoga into a tool used by the Seeress was one of pure deviation from Norse mythology. However, I figured it would fit in nicely with the theme of what a Seeress represented and to be an accomplished, successful witch, it would be a given that one would have to have all the elements balanced to attain a state of nirvana, where one might receive the ultimate visions given to one by the Norns, the most powerful goddesses of all - even the gods are beholden to the fate and laws they make.

So, that was basically the way I felt I could give some sort of detail as to one of the secrets they might use to attain the state of receiving visions, since there was no details as such for my reference in the Heimskingla or other Sagas I have at my disposal at the moment.

The name of the Seeress, Heith, is taken from the ancient saga in "The Poetic Edda," which is also know as the _Eldar Edda_. The specific story is "The Prophecy of the Seeress," (of course).

It should be noted that in "The Prophecy of the Seeress" story Heith is only a name frequently born by witches in the ancient times. The Heith in this story is meant to be the "original, the mother" witch by whom all of her predecessors would come to be known by in their own right. This is much like the representation of the goddess Freya. Those who came after her, the women who either owned or ran their own households were given the ceremonial title, "freya"...and so on and so forth. The witches that came after Heith were so called, "heith."

On Beliefs. Humans live but once, according to Eru and Tolkien. However, you must bear in mind that just because this is fact, according to author and Ilúvatar, that it easily does not mean that this is something the humans in the stories themselves always believed. Remember there are many religions and beliefs in the wide world...nobody can really _know_ for certain, can they?

The point on the beliefs in this story for the Haladin? I honestly do not see this as a Silmarillion canon deviation. The Haladin were sundered and strange with their own customs and language - why not their own beliefs?

In summary, Tolkien did not say exactly what the Haladin themselves believed, but only that humans had but one life and by Ilúvatar's gift, they passed into that which is a mystery even to the Eldar.

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Disclaimer:

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.


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